JSEP24W37    ^ 


BR    1703     .C87 

Currier,  Albert  Henry,  1837 

1927. 
Nine  great  preachers 


f\r\i    I  j  :;,2S: 


7  am  the  Light  of  the  Worlds    X^-^o^ 

— Jesus. 


tio,i 


«C4L8t' 


NINE 
GREAT   PREACHERS 


BY 


ALBERT  H.    CURRIER,   D.D. 


THE   PILGRIM    PRESS 

BOSTON       NEW  YORK       CHICAGO 


Copyright,    1912 
By  Luther  H.  Gary 


THE    RUMFORD    PRESS 
CONCORD •  N  •  H  •  U  .  S .  A 


/: 


DEDICATION 

To  his  former  pupils,  students  of  his  classes 
in  Oherlin  Theological  Seminary  during  the 
twenty-six  years  of  his  service  in  that  institu- 
tion as  instructor  in  the  art  of  preaching, 
whose  careers  he  has  followed  with  sympathetic 
interest  ever  since  they  went  forth  at  graduation 
to  the  great  work  of  preaching  the  Gospel,  this 
volume  is  affectionately  dedicated  by 

The  Author 


PREFACE 

The  biographical  studies  contained  in  this  volume 
have  been  culled  from  a  delightful  field  of  literature. 
For  many  years  the  author  has  roamed  about  this 
field  with  pleasure  and  profit.  From  the  experience 
thus  obtained  he  heartily  concurs  in  the  opinion 
of  Professor  Benjamin  Jowett,  the  famous  Master 
of  BaUiol  College,  Oxford  University,  that  "Of 
great  men  it  may  be  truly  said  that  it  does  us  good 
only  to  look  at  them.  The  lives  of  great  and  good 
men  are  the  best  sermons;  and  the  preacher  may 
do  well  sometimes  to  shield  himself  behind  them 
and  so  to  speak  with  greater  authority  than  his 
own  words  could  fairly  claim."  Professor  Jowett's 
volume  of  "Biographical  Sermons"  affords  a  good 
illustration  of  the  truth  of  his  words. 

If  "history  is  philosophy  teaching  by  example," 
as  an  eminent  writer  has  said,  biography  of  this 
kind  is  even  more;  it  is  both  philosophy  and  Chris- 
tianity exemplified  in  the  most  impressive  object- 
lessons. 

The  author  cherishes  the  hope  that  the  studies 
given  in  this  volume  which  relate  to  preachers  of 
different  denominations,  will  convince  its  readers 
that  "All  faiths  afford  the  constant  and  the  wise" — 
a  better  acquaintance  with  whom  through  its  pages 
will  be  found  stimulating  and  profitable.  It  is 
his  belief  that  we  do  well  as  Christians  to  recognize 

vii 


PREFACE 

the  comprehensive  character  of  Christianity  and 
the  essential  agreement  of  its  adherents  of  different 
names.  Our  hymnals  contain,  and  we  use  in  our 
public  worship  with  hearty  enjoyment  and  spiritual 
benefit,  hymns  composed  by  Catholics,  Anglicans, 
Presbyterians,  Methodists,  Quakers,  Unitarians  and 
other  religious  hymn- writers.  They  assist  the  devo- 
tions and  kindle  to  the  adoration  of  God  and  faith 
in  Christ  all  Christian  believers.  A  similar  effect 
is  produced  by  the  lives  and  sermons  of  the  preachers 
of  different  denominations.  They  reveal  "one  faith, 
one  hope,  one  baptism";  they  inspire  and  nourish 
in  us  the  same  religious  sentiments,  and  convey 
to  us  the  essential  truth  of  the  Gospel  of  Jesus 
Christ. 

Whatever,  then,  the  religious  denomination  one 
may  belong  to,  his  attitude  to  other  Christians 
should  be  one  of  brotherly  kindness  and  tolerance 
instead  of  sectarian  coldness.  No  good  reason  can 
be  given  why  they  should  not  heartily  unite  in 
the  promotion  and  support  of  measures  of  approved 
value  for  the  social  and  moral  welfare  of  mankind, 
or  for  the  establishment  and  support  of  whatever 
form  of  worship  and  Christian  fellowship  may  seem 
best,  or  alone  feasible,  in  the  community  where 
they  live. 

"I  cannot,"  says  Richard  Baxter,  "be  so  narrow 
in  my  principles  of  church  communion  as  many 
are,  that  are  so  much  for  a  liturgy,  or  so  much 
against  it;  so  much  for  ceremonies,  or  so  much 
against  them,  that  they  can  hold  communion  with 
no  church  that  is  not  of  their  mind  and  way.     I 

viii 


PREFACE 

am  not  for  narrowing  the  church  more  than  Christ 
himself  alloweth  us,  nor  for  robbing  him  of  any  of 
bis  flock." 

By  scorning  such  narrowness  and  cordially  frater- 
nizing with  all  who  sincerely  profess  to  love  and 
honor  Christ  we  best  honor  his  name  and  illustrate 
the  harmony  of  feeling  and  practice  existing  among 
the  Christians  expressed  in  one  of  the  best  of  our 
Christian  hymns : 

"O  Lord  and  Master  of  us  all! 
Whate'er  our  name  or  sign. 
We  own  thy  sway,  we  hear  thy  call. 
We  test  our  lives  by  thine." 

Whittier. 

Of  the  biographical  studies  composing  this  volume, 
two,  Bossuet  and  John  Bunyan,  have  previously 
appeared  in  the  Bibliotheca  Sacra,  and  the  author 
is  indebted  to  the  kindness  of  the  publishers  of  that 
quarterly  for  the  permission  to  insert  them  here. 
Of  the  rest,  none  have  been  published  before. 

Oberlin,  O.,  January  25th,  1912. 


IX 


TABLE  OF  CONTENTS 

PAGE 

I.  Introduction:       The   Interest   and 

Value  of  Ministerial  Biographies  «3 

II.  Chrysostom 31 

III.  Bernard  of  Clairvaux       ....  71 

IV.  Richard  Baxter 113 

V.  BossuET 165 

VI.  John  Bunyan 191 

VII.  Frederick  W.  Robertson  ....  233 

VIII.  Alexander  McLaren 283 

IX.  Henry  Ward  Beecher 325 

X.  Phillips  Brooks 361 


XI 


NINE  GREAT  PREACHERS 


I 

INTRODUCTION 


INTRODUCTION 

The  Interest  and  Value  of  Ministerial 
Biographies 

We  desire  to  present  to  the  consideration  of  our 
readers  some  special  reasons  that  recommend  this 
class  of  Hterature  to  them  for  their  perusal  and  study. 
Before  entering,  however,  upon  the  consideration 
of  these  reasons  one  or  two  objections  sometimes 
made  to  such  studies  claim  brief  notice. 

It  may  be  said  that  the  writers  of  these  biog- 
raphies are  usually  partial  friends  or  blind  hero- 
worshippers,  and  that  they  do  not  give  a  true  and 
reliable  account  of  the  men  whom  they  pretend  to 
describe;  they  exaggerate  their  merits,  and  they 
hide  or  extenuate  their  faults  to  such  a  degree  that 
the  result  is  entirely  untrustworthy  and  misleading. 
Such  men  as  they  describe,  it  may  therefore  be 
said,  never  really  lived,  and  the  admirable  portraits 
of  them  which  they  present  are  largely  creations  of 
their  own  imaginations.  So  the  admiration  they 
excite  in  us  is  unwarranted  and  not  likely  to  prove 
beneficial,  as  no  good  can  be  expected  from  what  is 
false.  To  this  objection  it  may  be  replied  that  it 
is  easy  to  make  all  proper  deductions  for  the  possible 
partiality  and  hero-worship.  We  do  this  con- 
tinually in    our    estimates    of    those    whom    the 

3 


NINE  GREAT  PREACHERS 

fond  partiality  of  relatives  or  friends  clothes  with 
unreal  perfections.  It  is  possible  and  easy  to 
discern  the  shadow  of  truth  underneath  the  exag- 
gerations. They  represent,  we  may  say,  what  the 
clearer  vision  of  love  perceives — the  soul  of  excel- 
lence in  spite  of  every  fault.  They  represent,  if 
not  what  the  persons  portrayed  really  were  as 
judged  by  an  uncharitable  world,  yet  what  they 
aimed  to  be  and  often  seemed  to  be.  And  it  may 
be  insisted  that  there  is  profit  in  the  contemplation 
of  this,  though  somewhat  of  hallucination  is  expe- 
rienced. It  is  good  for  men  to  believe  in  the  possi- 
bility of  such  excellence.  The  hallucination,  if 
such  there  be,  is  similar  to  that  which  some  cele- 
brated piece  of  antique  statuary  like  the  Venus 
di  Milo,  or  the  Hermes  of  Praxiteles,  recovered 
from  the  ruins  of  Olympia,  exerts  upon  an  admiring 
art  student  or  susceptible  spectator,  who  though 
he  must  own  and  regret  the  mutilations  that  mar 
its  beauty,  yet  in  spite  of  them  discerns  the  glorious 
ideal  that  the  artist  had  in  mind  and  to  a  large 
extent  expressed  in  his  work,  and  which  still  survives 
the  marring  effect  of  its  mutilation. 

It  may  be  also  objected  to  such  studies  that  they 
are  likely  to  prove  more  injurious  than  beneficial 
by  inducing  a  slavish  imitation  of  the  subjects  of 
them  to  the  loss  of  one's  independence  of  mind. 
There  is,  perhaps,  some  danger  of  this.  Phillips 
Brooks,  who  highly  extols  the  value  of  biographical 
literature,  candidly  confesses  the  danger.  "Here," 
he  says,  "is  the  only  danger  I  know  in  the  reading 
of  biographies,  lest  he  who  reads  should  lose  himself, 


INTEREST  OF  CLERICAL  LIVES 

shall  come  to  be  not  himself,  but  the  feeble  repetition 
of  some  other  man."  The  same  danger,  however, 
attends  our  highest  blessings;  the  blessings  of 
friendship,  of  social  intercourse,  of  study  of  the 
great  masters  of  style,  and  of  the  inspiring  authors 
of  remarkable  works  of  literature. 

But  we  do  not  because  of  this  danger  refuse  to 
form  friendships,  or  decline  the  pleasure  of  inter- 
course with  attractive  people,  or  the  benefit  that  comes 
from  familiarity  with  the  masters  of  literature. 
We  guard  against  the  danger  by  trying  to  get  from 
these  blessings  their  proper  benefit.  This,  in  every 
case,  is  not  that  of  servile  imitation,  but  of  inspira- 
tion or  suggestion.  Instead  of  surrendering  our 
personal  independence  and  "swamping"  ourselves 
or  suppressing  our  own  creative  powers  in  the 
endeavor  to  imitate  them,  we  are  incited,  if  we  use 
them  aright,  to  improve  ourselves  and  perfect  our 
work  by  the  suggestions  they  give.  Their  effect  on 
the  mind  is  that  of  a  fertilizing  agency,  by  which 
its  natural  powers  are  not  dwarfed  or  extinguished 
but  stimulated  to  answer  the  ends  of  its  existence. 
It  is  like  the  influence  of  Milton  on  Burke,  or  of 
Tillotson  on  Dryden,  by  which  these  eminent 
writers  became  not  copyists  of  the  styles  of  Milton 
and  Tillotson,  but  makers,  each  of  them,  of  a  better 
style  of  their  own.  The  same  thing  is  true  of  the 
ideas  obtained  from  the  study  of  the  masterpieces 
of  literature.  The  mind  thus  becomes  not  only  a 
casket  of  pearls  gathered  from  the  writers  studied, 
but  a  producer  of  pearls  itself.  The  pearls  of 
thought  gathered  are  seed  thoughts.     Sown  in  the 


NINE  GREAT  PREACHERS 

mind,  they  make  it  a  fruitful  bed  of  pearls,  i.  e., 
they  produce  harvests  of  similar  ideas,  often  expressed 
and  shaped  with  similar  felicity,  but  a  felicity  of 
their  own. 

Let  us  now  consider  some  reasons  that  commend 
ministerial  biographies  to  us  as  profitable  for  perusal 
and  study. 

I.  There  is  a  strong  presumption  in  favor  of  such 
books,  as  likely  to  afford  profitable  reading,  from  the 
fact  that  they  belong  to  the  same  class  of  literature  as 
the  Gospels  and  the  book  of  Acts.  The  whole  Bible, 
indeed,  may  be  described  as  a  collection  of  biographies 
rather  than  of  religious  dogmas  and  precepts.  Its 
method  of  teaching  is  not  so  much  didactic  as  illus- 
trative. It  instructs  us  in  the  nature  and  obligations 
of  religion  principally  by  examples  and  object-lessons 
rather  than  by  doctrinal  statements  and  definitions. 
How  precious  and  impressive  these  sacred  biogra- 
phies of  the  Bible  are,  whether  of  the  Old  Testament 
or  of  the  New!  The  longest  of  them  is  not  a  word 
too  long;  the  shortest  of  them  is  so  significant  that 
an  ocean  of  meaning  seems  to  be  contained  in  a 
drop  of  words.  Take  that  of  Enoch,  for  example. 
What  is  said  of  him  is  compressed  in  a  few  sentences. 
There  is  nothing  here  to  satisfy  vain  curiosity,  no 
elaborate  narrative  touching  things  private  or  public, 
but  little  more  than  is  summed  up  in  the  declara- 
tion— "And  Enoch  walked  with  God,  and  he  was 
not,  for  God  took  him."  But  how  sublimely  signifi- 
cant, nevertheless,  this  declaration  is !  It  is  like  the 
enbalmed  heart  of  a  king,  the  rest  of  whose  body 
has  turned  to  indistinguishable  dust.     Nothing  more 

6 


INTEREST  OF  CLERICAL  LIVES 

is  needed  to  give  us  the  assurance  that  here  was  one 
of  earth's  great  men,  and  that  he  deserved  a  place 
in  the  roll  of  God's  saints. 

Still  more  may  be  said  of  the  biographies  of  the 
New  Testament.  That  of  Christ  in  the  Gospels  is 
an  inestimable  treasure;  that  of  the  apostles  an 
unfailing  inspiration.  By  means  of  these  sacred 
biographies  of  the  Bible  the  knowledge  of  God  and 
of  the  effect  of  his  saving  truth  has  been  spread 
abroad  and  is  kept  alive  in  the  world.  Generation 
after  generation  feed  upon  them  and  derive  spiritual 
life  from  them.  By  them  our  faith  is  firmly  anchored 
in  the  teachings  of  our  religion.  By  them  the 
church  of  God  continually  renews  its  ideals  of 
Christian  character  and  duty.  According  to  the 
study  given  them  and  the  observance  paid  to  their 
teachings  is  its  standard  of  piety  and  endeavor.  If 
they  are  neglected,  its  spiritual  life  declines;  if  they 
are  thoughtfully  read  and  pondered,  this  life  is 
invigorated  and  it  exerts  a  transforming  influence 
over  the  world. 

The  influence  of  ministerial  biographies  is  in  the 
same  line  with  the  power  of  the  sacred  Scriptures. 
The  subjects  of  them,  almost  without  exception, 
fully  believed  in  and  loved  the  Bible.  They  were 
diligent  students  of  its  pages,  they  embraced  its 
invitations,  they  relied  upon  its  promises,  they 
obeyed  its  precepts.  Their  religious  faith  was 
shaped  by  its  instruction;  from  it  they  "fetched 
the  sacred  fire  that  kindled  their  sacrifices."  They 
were,  in  short,  Bible  Christians;  their  ministry  was 
a  Bible  ministry,  and  whatever  success  they  had 


NINE  GREAT  PREACHERS 

in  the  world  they  owed  to  this  fact.  It  may,  there- 
fore, be  truthfully  said  that  the  credit  of  their 
V  characters  and  work  gives  new  luster  and  credit 
to  the  Bible,  inasmuch  as  they  are  embodiments  of 
its  great  ideas.  Embodying  its  great  ideas,  they 
exhibit  its  best  fruit — that  of  an  earnest  vital  piety. 
And  if  the  perusal  of  their  biographies  do  nothing 
else  but  quicken  the  piety  of  their  readers  and  give 
them  a  higher  standard  of  piety,  they  receive  from 
them  the  best  thing  they  can  get  and  what  is  most 
essential  to  their  own  welfare  and  the  good  of  society. 
V  These  biographies,  furthermore,  illustrate  and 
confirm  the  truth  of  the  Scriptures;  they  stamp 
it  as  divine.  Now  that  the  attesting  power  of  the 
early  miracles,  authenticating  Christianity  as  from 
God,  has  become  somewhat  enfeebled  by  lapse  of 
time,  and  the  record  of  its  mighty  works  in  the 
beginning  has  by  familiarity  grown  less  impressive, 
and  doubt  and  incredulity  are  beginning  to  rise  in 
men's  minds  with  palsying  effect,  this  truth  has 
received  a  fresh  attestation  of  its  divine  origin  and 
authority  from  these  examples  of  its  indestructible 
vitality.  By  reason  of  them  the  believing  people 
of  God  can  say:  "Now  we  know  that  it  is  no 
transient  superstition,  nor  cunningly  devised  fable, 
as  the  emboldened  scepticism  of  the  age  asserts. 
In  it  there  dwells  a  supernatural  potency — an 
undecaying  vitality.  Like  the  Christ,  whom  it 
presents,  it  is  "the  same  yesterday,  today  and 
forever."  Age  doth  not  wither  it,  nor  the  growth 
of  knowledge  discredit  it.  It  is  authenticated  as 
the  truth  of  God  in  the  nineteenth  and  twentieth 

8 


'     INTEREST  OF  CLERICAL  LIVES 

centuries  by  mighty  works  quite  as  marvelous  as 
those  which  attested  it  in  the  first  century.  Its 
continual  operation  in  the  world  has  been,  and  is 
such  as  to  create  what  Doctor  Storrs  called  "a  / 
standing _ miracle-' ' — "the  standing  miracle  of  Chris- 
tendom," to  bear  constant  and  indubitable  witness 
to  its  truth.  The  lives  of  eminent  missionaries  of 
the  past  century  to  the  unchristian  peoples  of  the 
world — of  Judson,  Coan,  Williams,  Paton,  Thoburn, 
Hume  and  many  others  too  numerous  to  mention, 
and  the  lives  of  humble  city  missionaries,  such  as 
Lord  Shaftsbury  speaks  of  as  his  helpers  in  the 
effort  to  evangelize  and  uplift  the  poor  of  London, 
and  of  such  devoted  lay-preachers  and  Christian 
toilers  among  the  poor  of  New  York  as  those 
described  in  "Down  in  Water  Street,"  and  in  Dr.  J. 
W.  Chapman's  "Life  of  S.  H.  Hadley":  and  the 
lives  of  devoted  ministers  and  evangelists,  as  Edward 
Payson,  C.  L.  Goodell,  Charles  G.  Finney  and  Mr. 
Moody,  are  filled  with  wonderful  works  as  great  and 
marvelous  as  those  of  the  apostles.  Doctor  Pierson 
cannot  be  accused  of  exaggeration  in  calling  the  story 
of  their  achievements  "A  New  Acts  of  the  Apostles. " 
These  "New  Acts,"  equally  with  the  Old,  prove  the 
Gospel  "the  power  of  God  unto  salvation."  It  is 
not  an  extinguished  torch  whose  oil  is  entirely  con- 
sumed and  whose  wick  has  burned  to  a  cinder.  It 
is  on  the  contrary  an  inextinguishable  torch  whose 
flame  is  fed  from  inexhaustible  sources  and  which 
burns  without  being  consumed  like  the  burning  bush, 
which  the  Church  of  Scotland  has  made  the  symbol 
of  its  enduring  faith  and  inextinguishable  life. 


NINE  GREAT  PREACHERS 

II.  These  ministerial  biographies  are  very  enter- 
taining. Nowhere  in  the  whole  range  of  literature, 
can  we  spend  more  delightful  hours,  or  find  more 
healthful  mental  recreation  than  among  the  pub- 
lished reminiscences  of  clergymen,  such  as  Charles 
Kinglsey,  F.  W.  Robertson  and  C.  H.  Spurgeon 
of  England;  and  Lyman  Beecher,  Charles  G.  Finney, 
Henry  Ward  Beecher,  Phillips  Brooks  and  Edward 
Everett  Hale,  of  our  country.  A  good  example 
was  given  the  past  year  in  The  Outlook  for  Nov. 
12th,  in  the  "Reminiscences  of  Edward  Everett 
Hale"  by  George  S.  Merriam.  It  seemed  to  us 
in  reading  it  a  charming  and  effective  piece  of  por- 
traiture, by  which  every  trait  of  that  admirable 
man  was  set  forth  with  abundant  wealth  of  illus- 
tration and  felicity  of  style.  He  possessed  a  rare 
combination  of  qualities,  mental,  moral  and  social 
and  he  was  largely  endowed  with  each  kind.  His 
inventiveness  and  fertility  of  mind  were  apparent 
from  the  number  of  his  writings.  But  numerous 
as  these  were — ^flowing  seemingly  from  an  inex- 
haustible spring — their  excellence  was  as  remarkable 
as  their  quantity.  Mr.  Merriam  says:  "He  had 
wit,  he  had  humor,  and  something  more — a  vein  of 
fancy,  a  happy  and  merry  make-believe.  .  .  . 
His  peculiar  humor  and  fancy  blossomed  out  in  a 
fairy-story  quality  which  he  often  threw  into  his 
writings.  It  gave  sometimes  a  whimsical  form  to 
his  inveterate  optimism.  He  turned  to  it  for  his 
own  and  his  friends'  delectation  as  a  child  turns 
to  its  play.  It  tinges  many  of  his  stories  of  serious 
purpose  like  *Ten  Times  One  is  Ten.'     Truth  to 

10 


INTEREST  OF  CLERICAL  LIVES 

tell,  the  roseate  hue  sometimes  is  followed  by  a 
touch  of  disheartenment  in  the  listeners.  Real 
drunkards  are  not  always  so  surely  and  swiftly 
reformed;  the  visible  Kingdom  of  God  does  not  seem 
to  advance  by  a  tenfold  multiplication  annually. 
.  .  .  But  his  rainbows  made  the  tramp  along 
the  dusty  highway  more  cheerful  even  if  you  never 
found  the  pot  of  gold."  His  moral  and  social 
qualities  made  him  a  wise  and  sympathetic  counsellor 
of  people  of  every  class — of  those  in  perplexity  and 
trouble,  and  those  afflicted  with  sore  bereavement. 
His  "happy  and  merry  make-believe"  made  him 
the  welcome  companion  of  children  and  imaginative 
young  people,  and  his  fancy  with  its  bias  to  drollery 
mingled  with  wisdom  wove  wholesome  fictions  and 
extravagances  that  forced  smiles  and  approval 
from  both  the  fun-loving  and  the  serious-minded. 
His  religious  creed  and  his  preaching  were  marked 
by  the  broadest  charity;  and  he  sought  to  win  men 
to  his  religious  belief  not  by  arguments  and  theo- 
logical controversy,  but  by  "the  way  of  life  which 
he  taught  and  which  he  lived  and  which  .  .  . 
generates  an  atmosphere  in  which  scepticism 
withers."  "Life — that,"  says  Mr.  Merriam,  "was 
his  characteristic  word,  and  the  motto  on  his  church 
stationery  was,  'I  am  come  that  they  might  have 
life  and  that  they  might  have  it  more  abundantly.'  " 
To  meet  this  man  on  the  street,  and  receive  his 
greeting  of  "Good  Morning,"  was  a  benediction 
that  made  the  whole  day  good.  Similar  is  the 
effect  of  perusing  these  "Reminiscences,"  in  which 
his  friend  has  embalmed  his  memory. 

11 


NINE  GREAT  PREACHERS 

One  rises  from  the  perusal  refreshed,  morally 
invigorated  and  inspired  with  the  purpose  of  fulfill- 
ing Mr.  Hale's  parting  exhortation  on  one  occasion 
to  this  friend:  *'Make  good  society  where  you  are." 
Not  all  the  reminiscences  of  clergymen,  we  admit, 
are  equally  interesting  with  this  example,  but 
generally,  we  repeat,  ministerial  biographies  are 
entertaining.  Our  judgment  is  based  upon  quite 
a  wide  acquaintance  with  them;  which  experience, 
candidly  weighed,  leads  us  to  recognize  the  truth 
of  a  witty  remark  once  made  in  our  hearing  in  regard 
to  the  ministry  by  the  Rev.  Daniel  Butler,  familiarly 
known  as  "Bible  Butler,"  as  representing  the 
American  Bible  Society  in  Boston  and  the  churches 
of  New  England.  Witnessing  their  sparkling  sallies 
of  wit  and  racy  wisdom  before  the  meeting,  as  they 
gathered  at  the  entrance  of  the  church  and  upon 
the  lawn,  on  an  occasion  that  brought  a  large  number 
of  ministers  together,  Mr.  Butler  dryly  said:  "The 
hilarity  of  my  ministerial  brethren  at  these  gather- 
ings always  reminds  me  of  the  words  of  the  Psalmist : 
*  The  trees  of  the  Lord  are  full  of  sap ! ' " 

III.  The  biographies  of  eminent  servants  of  God 
in  the  work  of  the  ministry — whether  ecclesiastically 
ordained  thereto,  or  unordained — afford  an  effective 
cure  for  religious  discouragement  and  depression. 
Sometimes  in  their  religious  works  and  Christian 
activities  good  people  are  dismayed  at  the  number 
and  greatness  of  the  obstacles  opposed  to  them. 
Because  of  the  infirmity  of  our  human  nature  their 
zeal  abates  and  their  spirits  flag.  It  seems  to  them, 
then,  that  their  work  is  altogether  vain;  that  they 

12 


INTEREST  OF  CLERICAL  LIVES 

accomplish  little  or  nothing  by  it,  that  their  best 
efforts  result  only  in  weariness  and  disappointment. 
"Why  attempt  anything  further?"  "Why  spend 
our  strength  for  naught?"  the  discouraged  heart 
then  cries.  These  suggestions  have  a  paralyzing 
effect.  The  strongest  and  most  energetic  and 
courageous  men,  like  Elijah  and  John  the  Baptist 
and  the  great  reformers,  Luther,  Knox,  and  the 
most  heroic  missionaries,  have  all  felt  the  depressing 
spell  and  been  almost  overcome  by  it,  so  as  to  sink 
down  into  a  state  of  dull  apathy  and  despair.  At 
such  times  a  good  biography — with  its  thrilling 
account  of  noble  and  beneficent  achievement — is  a 
wholesome  spiritual  tonic.  It  energizes  and  inspires 
the  tired  heart  and  jaded  spirits  with  fresh  life  and 
renewed  vigor.  The  subject  of  it  encountered 
similar  obstacles  and  felt  similar  discouragement — 
but  roused  by  the  voice  and  strengthened  by  the 
power  of  God,  he  rose  up  and  renewed  the  fight 
and  won  at  last.  Its  effect  is  like  that  of  martial 
music  upon  soldiers  weary  with  long  marches  and 
faint  with  hunger.  The  trumpet  peal  revives  their 
courage — rekindles  their  ardor  and  nerves  them  to 
a  conquering  pitch  of  endeavor.  It  is  a  familiar 
story  of  classic  literature  that  Themis tocles,  the 
leader  of  the  Greeks  at  Salamis,  was  stimulated  to 
those  daring  efforts  which  gave  them  the  victory  by 
the  remembered  example  of  Miltiades  the  Greek 
leader  at  Marathon.  So  the  leaders  of  the  Church 
have  often  been  incited  to  triumphant  effort  by 
the  examples  of  those  who  had  wrought  righteous- 
ness in  the  service  of  God.     This  is  one  of  God's 

IS 


NINE  GREAT  PREACHERS 

ways  of  inspiring  man,  a  method  of  his  providence. 
The  coals  from  off  his  altar,  by  which  his  chosen 
ones  have  had  their  lips  touched  to  eloquence  and 
their  sins  of  indolence  and  cowardice  purged  away, 
are  the  bright  records  of  those  who  have  laid  them- 
selves upon  his  altar  and  worked  for  his  glory,    i 

IV.  In  the  reading  and  study  of  ministerial 
biographies,  we  receive  interesting  and  valuable  sug- 
gestions as  to  the  best  methods  of  ministerial  work, 
and  the  best  means  of  attaining  the  highest  success  in 
the  ministry.  Such  knowledge  is  particularly  val- 
uable to  ministers  themselves,  who  more  than  any 
other  class  are  likely  to  be  readers  of  these  biog- 
raphies. The  subjects  of  them  were  among  the 
most  eminent  and  successful  in  their  sacred  calling. 
But  for  their  distinction  in  it,  in  some  way  or  other, 
their  biographies  would  not  have  been  given  to 
the  world.  The  fact  of  a  biography  in  every  case 
implies  that  the  subject  of  it  was  believed  to  be 
more  than  ordinary;  that  his  life  contained  impor- 
tant lessons,  or  was  marked  by  extraordinary 
achievements;  or  that  he  possessed  a  character  of 
such  beauty  and  moral  excellence  as  make  it  deserv- 
ing of  general  admiration  and  worthy  of  emulation. 
But  his  eminence  and  success  may  have  been  due 
as  much  to  the  wise  methods  he  used  as  to  his 
superior  moral  and  mental  qualities,  or  his  genius. 
In  respect  to  the  latter,  he  may  be — probably  is 
— inimitable;  in  respect  to  the  former,  his  example 
can  be  profitably  studied  and  to  some  extent  copied. 
We  think  it  may  be  truly  affirmed  that  ordinary 
abilities  trained  and  directed  by  wise  methods  will 

14 


INTEREST  OF  CLERICAL  LIVES 

often  appear  to  better  advantage  and  achieve  more 
usefulness  than  extraordinary  abilities  ill-directed. 
This  remark  will  be  found  true  of  the  whole  range 
of  ministerial  activity.  Whether  we  consider  his 
pulpit  performances  or  his  pastoral  work,  a  good 
method  counts  for  much.  Such  methods  are  often 
discovered  or  suggested  in  the  biographies  of  emi- 
nent ministers.  These  methods  were  peculiar  to 
the  persons  whose  ministry  they  distinguished. 
There  is  wisdom  in  studying  them  and  often  great 
advantage  in  adopting  them.  By  doing  this,  one 
is  saved  from  mistakes  and  the  loss  of  time  and 
the  toil  involved  in  painfully  and  slowly  groping 
for  a  way  to  success,  when  a  clear  and  practicable 
way  has  been  already  discovered  and  its  value  well 
tested. 

We  venture  to  particularize  some  valuable  accom-y' 
plishments  that  may^  be  thus  acquired:  Several 
things  are  involved  in  the  art  of  effective  preaching. 
Foremost  among  these  are  personal  piety,  a  familiar 
acquaintance  with  the  Bible,  a  good  understanding 
of  its  teaching,  the  ability  to  reason  soundly,  and 
the  skill  to  put  one's  thoughts  logically  and  attract- 
ively together.  Besides  these,  an  opulent  and  forcible 
diction  ready  to  the  tongue,  the  power  of  apt  illus- 
tration, of  natural  and  easy  gesture  and  a  good 
voice,  which  the  preacher  knows  how  to  manage 
so  as  impressively  to  express  the  varying  shades  of 
thought  and  feeling  that  occur  in  speaking;  these 
are  usual  adjuncts  of  pulpit  power. 

As    illustrating    the    value    of    a    good     voice, 
well  managed,   we   quote   what  President   Francis 

15 


NINE  GREAT  PREACHERS 

Wayland,  of  Brown  University,  says  of  the  preaching 
of  Dr.  Eliphalet  Nott:  "When  settled  in  Albany, 
his  reputation  as  a  preacher  was  unparalleled. 
Those  who  heard  his  sermon  on  the  death  of  Hamil- 
ton declared  it  was  the  most  eloquent  discourse 
they  ever  heard.  So  far  as  I  can  recall  his  manner, 
after  the  lapse  of  many  years,  the  excellency  which 
gave  him  so  great  power  was  in  the  tones  of  his 
voice.  I  would  almost  say  they  were  so  perfect 
that  a  man  who  did  not  understand  English  would, 
from  his  tones  alone,  have  been  able  to  form  an 
idea  of  the  train  of  thought  he  was  pursuing.  When 
he  uttered  a  sentence,  the  emphasis,  inflections 
and  tones  were  so  perfect  that  every  part  was 
distinctly  connected  with  that  to  which  it  belonged 
and  you  never  failed  to  comprehend  his  meaning 
precisely.  When  to  this  were  joined  the  tones  of 
emotion  adapted  to  every  range  of  human  feeling, 
you  may  possibly  perceive  what  must  have  been 
the  effect."  In  the  biography  of  Doctor  Guthrie 
we  have  a  similar  testimony  as  to  the  power  and 
charm  of  his  voice:  *'He  had  a  powerful,  clear  and 
musical  voice,  the  intonations  of  which  were  varied 
and  appropriate,  managed  with  an  actor's  skill 
though  there  was  not  the  least  appearance  of  art." 
This  power  of  the  voice,  characteristic  of  almost 
all  eminent  preachers  and  orators,  is  almost  never 
a  natural  gift.  It  is  largely  the  result  of  elocu-- 
tionary  training.  It  was  so  with  Guthrie  and  Nott. 
Whitefield  and  Beecher,  and  a  study  of  their  biog- 
raphies will  reveal  their  methods  of  improving  it. 
Guthrie  thus  tells  how  it  was  with  himself:  "When  a 

16 


INTEREST  OF  CLERICAL  LIVES 

divinity  student  I  paid  more  than  ordinary  atten- 
tion to  the  art  of  elocution,  knowing  how  much  of 
the  effect  produced  upon  the  audience  depended 
on  the  manner  as  well  as  on  the  matter;  that  in 
point  of  fact  the  manner  is  to  the  matter  as  the 
powder  is  to  the  ball.  I  attended  elocution  classes 
winter  after  winter,  walking  across  half  the  city  and 
more  after  eight  o'clock  at  night,  fair  night  and  foul, 
and  not  getting  back  to  my  lodgings  until  about 
10:30  o'clock.  There  I  learned  to  find  out  and 
correct  many  acquired  and  more  or  less  awkward 
defects  in  gesture,  to  be  in  fact  natural;  to  acquire 
a  command  over  my  voice  so  as  to  suit  its  force  and 
emphasis  to  the  sense,  and  to  modulate  it  so  as  to 
express  the  feelings,  whether  of  surprise  or  grief 
or  indignation  or  pity.  I  had  heard  very  indifferent 
discourses  made  forcible  by  a  vigorous  delivery, 
and  able  ones  reduced  to  feebleness  by  a  poor  pith- 
less delivery.  I  had  read  of  the  extraordinary 
pains  Demosthenes  and  Cicero  took  to  cultivate 
their  manner  of  public  speaking  and  become  masters 
of  the  arts  of  elocution,  and  I  knew  how  by  a  mas- 
terly and  natural  use  of  them  Whitefield  could  sway 
the  crowds  that  gathered  to  hear  him  at  early  morn 
on  the  commons  of  London." 

Guthrie  likewise  possessed  to  an  eminent  degree 
the  power  of  apt,  impressive  illustration.  Joined 
to  the  witchery  of  his  voice,  it  amounted  sometimes 
to  a  power  of  enchantment.  His  auditors  were 
then  spellbound  by  it.  An  amusing  instance  is 
presented  in  the  conduct  of  a  Highland  cattle- 
drover  one  day  in  Guthrie's  congregation  in  Free 

17 


NINE  GREAT  PREACHERS  j 

■I 
St.  John's.     The  man  stood  throughout  the  service      3 
in  one  of  the  crowded  aisles  within  a  few  yards  of       i 
the  pulpit.     From  the  first  he  was  riveted,  a  pinch       ! 
of  snuff  every  now  and  then  evincing  his  satisfaction.       | 
Toward  the  end  of  the  sermon  and  just  as  ?the       \ 
preacher  was  commencing  a  prolonged  illustration       ; 
the  stranger  applied  to  his  horn  mull.     Arrested, 
however,  he  stood  motionless,  his  hand  raised  with 
the    snuff   between   his   fingers,    his    head   thrown 
back,  his  eyes  and  mouth  wide  open.     The  instant       i 
that  the  passage  was  finished  and  before  the  audi-       j 
ence  had  time  to  recover  their  breath,  the  drover       \ 
applied  the  snuff  with  gusto  to  his  nostrils,   and       j 
forgetting  in  his  excitement  alike  the  place  and  the       | 
occasion,  turned  his  head  to  the  crowd  behind  and      ] 
exclaimed,  "Na,  Sirs,  I  never  heard  the  like  of  that!" 
'     Such  a  power  of  vivid  illustration  is  invaluable 
to  a  preacher.     It  is  characteristic  of  the  greatest 
preachers.     Chrysostom  had  it,  and  so  bound  his 
hearers  as  with  a  spell  that  pickpockets  plied  their       1 
trade  without  detection  among  them  while  he  was       \ 
preaching.     Beecher  had  it  to  a  remarkable  degree, 
as  the  writer  remembers  well  from  having    often 
sat  spellbound  when  a  young  man  under  his  preach- 
ing.    To  be  sure,  natural  gifts  of  imagination  and       ; 
fancy  are  required,  as  a  bird  must  have  wings  to 
fly.     But  these  gifts  must  be  exercised  and  suitably      j, 
directed.     The  faculty   of  skilful   and   appropriate       | 
illustration  is  a  product  of  diligent  self-culture  with       \ 
a  basis  of  native  endowment.     This  was  the  case 
with  Guthrie  and  Beecher.     Both  of  these  preachers 

developed   it   by   painstaking   effort,   having   early 

1 
18 


INTEREST  OF  CLERICAL  LIVES 

in    their    ministry    discovered    its    effectiveness    in 
addresses  to  popular  audiences. 

It  gives  me  pleasure  to  be  able  to  quote  the  follow- 
ing testimony  of  the  late  Dr.  William  M.  Taylor,  of  ^/ 
New  York,  in  support  of  my  opinions.  He  says: 
"If  I  may  speak  from  my  own  experience  there  is 
no  faculty  which  is  more  susceptible  of  development 
by  culture  than  that  of  discovering  analogies.  When 
I  commenced  my  ministry,  it  was  a  rare  thing  with 
me  to  use  an  illustration.  My  style  then  was 
particularly  argumentative,  and  my  aim  was  to  con- 
vince and  satisfy  the  understanding,  and  then  to 
make  my  appeal  warmly  to  the  heart.  But  shortly 
after  my  removal  from  my  Scotch  parsonage  to 
Liverpool,  Guthrie's  "Gospel  in  Ezekiel"  was  pub- 
lished, and  this  was  followed  a  few  months  later  by 
Mr.  Beecher's  "Life  Thoughts."  These  two  books 
opened  my  eyes  to  see  what  was  lying  all  around 
me.  Under  the  inspiration  which  they  communi- 
cated to  me,  I  began  to  look  for  spiritual  analogies 
in  everything.  The  books  I  read;  the  places  I 
visited;  the  incidents  that  passed  under  my  obser- 
vation; the  discoveries  of  science  with  which  I 
became  acquainted — all  were  scanned  by  me  for 
the  purpose  of  finding  in  them,  if  possible,  some- 
thing that  might  be  used  in  pulpit  illustration. 
And  so  it  came  that  when  I  sat  down  to  my  desk, 
appropriate  analogies  would  rise  to  my  pen,  and 
the  difficulty  was  not  how  to  get  illustrations,  but 
which  to  choose  out  of  the  many  that  offered  them- 
selves for  my  purpose."  (See  "The  Ministry  of 
the  Word,"  page  192.) 

19 


NINE  GREAT  PREACHERS 

The  autobiographic  testimony  of  Doctor  Taylor 
proves  both  that  the  illustrative  faculty,  when 
naturally  small,  may  be  greatly  developed  and 
improved,  and  that  he  learned  the  methods  of  its 
culture  and  effective  use  from  Guthrie  and  Beecher 
to  transmit  them  in  turn  to  others  in  the  ministry. 

Another  important  and  essential  requisite  to 
^effective  preaching  is  a  good  style  of  oral  address. 
We  mean  by  this — as  distinguished  from  a  bookish 
or  essay  style — an  easy,  forcible,  talking  style, 
that  shall  give  fit  and  orderly  expression  to  one's 
flowing  thought  in  the  presence  of  a  congregation 
of  listeners.  Mere  fluency  is  not  enough,  nor 
imperturbable  boldness  of  spirit,  though  self-pos- 
session is  necessary.  It  implies  a  careful  premedi- 
tation, so  that  one  knows  what  he  wants  to  say, 
and  a  command  of  language  and  of  the  mental 
faculties  so  complete  and  absolute  that  he  can  utter 
his  thought  with  sure  and  ready  tongue  and  full 
swing  of  personality,  without  hesitation  and  with 
natural  appropriate  feeling. 

This  style  of  utterance  more  than  any  other  thing 
distinguishes  a  powerful  preacher.  There  are  various 
methods  of  acquiring  it  according  as  men  are  made. 
Some  have  acquired  it  by  following  the  suggestions 
of  Dr.  R.  S.  Storrs  in  his  valuable  "Preaching  with- 
out Notes,"  which  is  largely  descriptive  of  his  own 
interesting  experience  in  the  ministry;  others  like  Fox 
and  Pitt,  the  great  English  Parliamentary  orators,  as 
described  by  Goodrich's  "British  Orators,"  by  the 
practice  of  translating  aloud  into  idiomatic  English 
the  great  orators  of  antiquity,  combined  with  the 

20 


INTEREST  OF  CLERICAL  LIVES 

resolute  determination  to  speak  whenever  oppor- 
tunity was  given;  still  others,  as  Bunyan  and 
Spurgeon,  Newman  Hall  and  Moody,  did  theirs  by 
beginning  early,  with  their  hearts  aflame  to  tell 
men  of  God's  love  and  his  salvation  through  faith 
in  Christ,  though  they  did  it  bunglingly  and  with 
many  grammatical  errors  and  ludicrous  mistakes 
joined  to  confusion  of  mind  and  matter;  but  they 
would  not  wait  to  obtain  more  polish  "nor  stand 
shivering  on  the  brink,"  but  plunged  boldly  into 
the  stream  of  talk,  resolved  to  "sink  or  swim,  survive 
or  perish,"  in  a  brave  endeavor  to  speak  their  mes- 
sage, with  the  result  that  they  made  themselves 
by  persistent  practice  effective  preachers,  whose 
style  was  that  of  earnest  men  talking  to  other  men 
of  the  way  of  salvation. 

Bossuet,  the  greatest  of  the  French  pulpit  orators, 
acquired  his  remarkable  style,  as  Alexander  Ham- 
ilton and  Daniel  Webster  acquired  theirs,  by  previous 
writing  upon  the  topic  of  discourse.  So  much  did 
Bossuet  write,  that  he  may  be  said  to  have  written 
out  his  sermons  entirely  before  he  went  into  the 
pulpit.  But  "the  written  sermon,"  says  his  biog- 
rapher, "was  not  written  to  be  exactly  repeated." 
This  effort  of  memory  while  speaking  he  could  not 
make;  he  would  have  lost  much  of  his  freedom  and 
force  and  naturalness  if  he  had  attempted  it.  Handi- 
capped by  this  burden  laid  upon  his  mind,  the  fire 
and  force  of  his  soul  would  have  been  sensibly 
affected.  The  purpose  of  previous  writing  was 
not  to  provide  himself  with  the  exact  words  needed 
to  express  his  thought,  but  to  develop  his  thought 

21 


NINE  GREAT  PREACHERS 

and  to  familiarize  his  mind  with  the  ground  to  be 
gone  over,  that,  with  a  clear  foresight  of  the  way  and 
the  goal,  he  might  run  forward  with  all  his  speed. 
Then  he  trusted  to  his  powers  of  expression  as 
determined  by  circumstances  and  the  inspiration 
of  the  moment,  and  the  sermon  as  preached  was 
usually  almost  identical  in  language  with  the  one 
written.  The  thing  to  be  noticed  is  that  this  elo- 
quent preacher,  of  such  resources  and  gifts,  took 
so  much  pains  to  prepare  himself  with  his  pen 
beforehand,  as  if  he  could  not  trust  himself  other- 
wise to  speak  well.  With  a  fertile  imagination  and 
great  readiness  of  speech,  he  left  little  to  chance. 
Though  he  might  have  won  admiration  with  slight 
toil  by  the  mere  exercise  of  his  splendid  gifts,  for 
forty  years  he  never  ceased  from  toiling  to  satisfy 
his  standard  of  excellence  and  make  himself  more 
perfect. 

The  biographies  of  these  different  men  show  their 
various  methods  of  preparation.  Wise  and  happy 
is  he  who  by  study  of  them  finds  a  model  best  suited 
to  himself  for  imitation  and  acquires  a  good  style 
of  oral  address. 

Another  valuable  acquirement  which  ministers, 
particularly  those  of  non-liturgical  denominations, 
may  obtain  from  the  study  of  ministerial  biographies, 
is  the  ability  to  lead  their  congregations  acceptably 
and  happily  in  public  worship.  To  give  voice,  in 
prayer,  to  the  spiritual  affections  and  religious 
longings  of  their  congregations  is  not  the  least 
important  function  of  such  ministers.  Bishop  Vin- 
cent of  the  Methodist  Episcopal  Church  once  told 


INTEREST  OF  CLERICAL  LIVES 

the  writer  that  he  regarded  it  as  the  most  difficult 
of  their  public  duties,  and  one  which,  he  thought, 
is  seldom  happily  performed.  When  it  is  thus 
performed  and  gives  fit  expression  to  the  conscious 
needs  and  aspirations  of  the  worshippers,  how 
acceptable  it  is!  Then  the  minister  is  a  true  priest 
to  his  people,  bringing  them  near  to  God  and  offering 
in  their  behalf  appropriate  sacrifices  of  praise  and 
prayer  in  which  they  heartily  concur.  How  shall 
one  qualify  himself  to  perform  this  important  and 
difficult  office.'^  Ministers,  and  also  devout  laymen 
who  occasionally  lead  the  devotions  of  others,  often 
wish  they  had  the  secret  of  success.  There  is  no 
better  way  of  acquiring  it  than  by  study  of  the  biog- 
raphies of  those  ministers  who  have  been  eminent 
for  it,  and  ascertaining  through  these  how  they  won 
their  success.  Such  were  Edward  Payson  and  the 
late  C.  L.  Goodsell  of  St.  Louis.  That  which  was 
most  prized  and  distinctive  in  their  public  min- 
istries was  their  pulpit  prayers.  These  impressed 
and  edified  their  congregations  more  than  their  ser- 
mons. "His  prayers,"  says  one  who  had  the  priv- 
ilege of  sitting  under  the  ministry  of  Doctor  Payson, 
"always  took  my  spirit  into  the  immediate  presence 
of  Christ  amid  the  glories  of  the  spiritual  world. 
It  was  always  a  letting  down  to  open  my  eyes  when 
he  had  concluded  and  find  myself  still  on  the  earth." 
His  biography  tells  us  the  secret  of  his  eminence 
in  this  service.  In  the  first  place,  as  a  godly  man 
he  daily  exercised  his  spirit  in  private  prayer.  His 
heart  and  his  lips  were  habituated  to  it,  because  he 
felt  it  to  be  a  religious  duty  and  he  found  sincere 

23 


NINE  GREAT  PREACHERS 

delight  in  it.  In  addition  to  this,  he  made  the  sub- 
ject of  pubHc  prayer  a  matter  of  special  study  and 
much  thought.  He  endeavored  to  form  right 
conceptions  of  it,  to  determine  what  its  true  purpose 
is,  what  the  conditions  are  of  its  right  performance, 
and  he  wrote  out  his  thoughts  upon  the  subject 
in  a  valuable  paper  that  is  included  in  his  biog- 
raphy. Thus  his  soul  became  so  conversant  with 
the  theory  and  practice  of  prayer,  private  and  public, 
that  it  easily  winged  its  flight  to  the  throne  of  God 
and  delighted  in  communion  with  him,  and  also 
made  others  sharers  of  its  spiritual  rapture,  as  a 
practiced  singer  who  delights  in  song  lifts  to  heaven 
the  souls  of  those  that  hear.  In  this  way  Dr. 
Payson  made  what  is  too  often  a  cold  and  uninter- 
esting part  of  the  pubhc  worship  of  the  sanctuary 
a  means  of  grace  and  of  spiritual  joy  to  worshippers. 
If  the  ministerial  reader  of  his  biography  is  encour- 
aged in  the  endeavor  to  impart  a  similar  interest 
to  this  office  of  public  prayer,  he  receives  an  inesti- 
mable benefit  himself  and  communicates  it  to  his 
fellow  worshippers. 

Methods  of  successful  pastoral  work  as  well  as 
of  pulpit  ministration  may  be  learned  from  minis- 
terial biographies.  No  minister  of  the  gospel  can 
read  those  of  Baxter,  McChene,  C.  L.  Goodsell 
and  H.  C.  Trumbull  without  being  made  wiser  for 
this  work.  They  studied  how  to  approach  men 
easily  and  happily  with  the  subject  of  reUgion 
until  they  acquired  great  skill  and  success  in  doing 
it.  Their  methods  of  introducing  the  subject  by 
conversation,  by  letter,  by  friendly  attentions    of 


INTEREST  OF  CLERICAL  LIVES 

various  kinds,  are  well  worth  study  by  any  who 
wish  to  acquire  somewhat  of  their  skill  and  success. 

V.  By  the  study  of  these  biographies  one  acquires 
high  ideals  of  character  and  achievement.  One  man 
is  superior  to  another,  and  accomplishes  more  in 
the  world  not  merely  because  he  is  endowed  with 
superior  natural  abilities  but  because  he  has  a 
higher  ideal  of  excellence.  This  he  may  have 
obtained  from  his  parents  and  instructors,  but  more 
probably  from  his  reading.  A  good  biography 
perhaps  has  given  it  to  him.  Having  it,  how  is 
he  affected  by  it?  Recall  the  influence  of  ideals 
in  art  and  literature.  Giotto,  Fra  Angelico,  Ra- 
phael, Michael  Angelo — these  eminent  artists  had 
ideals  of  saintly  beauty  and  physical  perfection, 
which  possessed  their  minds  and  gave  shape  to 
the  work  of  their  hands.  Their  ideals  forbade 
contentment  with  commonplace  achievements. 
They  stimulated  them  to  attempt  higher  and  better 
things  to  the  last. 

So  with  the  great  masters  in  literature.  Milton, 
for  example,  tells  us  of  his  studies  of  Plato,  Xeno- 
phon,  Dante,  and  Petrarch,  and  how  through  their 
influence  he  "was  confirmed  in  this  opinion,  that 
he  who  would  not  be  frustrate  of  his  hope  to  write 
well  in  laudable  things  ought  himself  to  be  a  true 
poem,  a  pattern  of  the  best  and  honorablest  things;" 
and  how  he  himself  indulged  the  hope  that  he 
"might  perhaps  leave  something  so  written  to 
aftertimes  as  they  should  not  willingly  let  die.  .  .  . 
These  thoughts  possessed  me.  For  which  cause 
.     .     .     I    applied   myself     ...     to   fix   all   the 

25 


NINE  GREAT  PREACHERS 

industry  and  art  I  could  unite  to  the  adorning  of 
my  native  tongue  .  .  .  to  be  an  interpreter 
and  relater  of  the  best  and  sagest  things  among 
mine  own  citizens  throughout  this  island  in  the 
mother  dialect;  that  what  the  greatest  and  choicest 
wits  of  Athens,  Rome  or  Modern  Italy  and  those 
Hebrews  of  Old  did  for  their  country,  I  in  my 
proportion  might  do  for  mine."  These  confessions 
reveal  a  mind  that  had  received  through  its  studies 
a  high  ideal,  which  attuned  his  heart  to  its  work 
and  shaped  his  thoughts  to  those  forms  of  eloquent 
expression  that  came  from  his  hand. 

We  suppose  that  he  never  quite  attained  his  ideal, 
that  his  mind  had  glimpses  of  a  perfection  which 
his  hand  never  achieved,  but  he  was  led  by  it  to 
greater  things  than  he  otherwise  would  have  reached. 
So  of  other  writers  whom  we  admire  or  fondly  love. 
It  was  his  ideal  which  inspired  Whittier  to  attempt 
his  highest  verse,  and  which,  after  he  had  done  his 
best,  made  him  say  to  the  friends  who  crowned  him 
on  his  seventieth  birthday  with  the  laurel  of  their 
praise : 

"You  do  but  read  between  the  written  lines 
The  finer  grace  of  unfulfilled  designs." 

Similar  is  the  operation  of  high  ideals  in  the  work 
of  the  Christian  ministry  or  of  any  other  honorable 
calling.  They  keep  the  mind  fixed  upon  a  high 
mark;  they  refine  and  exalt  its  perceptions  of 
duty  and  of  excellence,  until  these  result  in  a  per- 
manent moral  elevation  of  character,  and  a  remark- 
able power  of  achievement.     Such  moral  elevation 

26 


INTEREST  OF  CLERICAL  LIVES 

of  character  and  superiority  in  achievement  shed 
a  dignity  and  beauty  over  all  the  actions  of  life. 
What  we  mean  is  shown  by  Phillips  Brooks  in  the 
fine  illustration  which  forms  the  conclusion  of  his 
instructive  essay  upon  Biography:  "There  are/'y' 
he  says,  "some  of  the  great  old  paintings  in  which 
some  common  work  of  common  men  is  going  on, 
the  meeting  of  two  friends,  the  fighting  of  a  battle, 
a  marriage  or  a  funeral,  and  all  the  background 
of  the  picture  is  a  mass  of  living  faces,  dim,  misty, 
evidently  with  a  veil  between  them  and  the  life 
we  live,  yet  evidently  there,  evidently  watching 
the  sad  or  happy  scene,  and  evidently  creating 
an  atmosphere  within  which  the  action  of  the  pic- 
ture goes  its  way.  Like  such  a  picture  is  the  life 
of  one  who  lives  in  a  library  of  biographies,  and 
feels  the  lives  which  have  been,  always  pouring  in 
their  spirit  and  example  on  the  lives  which  have 
succeeded  them  upon  the  earth." 

This  elevating  effect  of  biographies  is  due  to  the 
spiritual  converse  had  with  those  whose  lives  they 
record.  We  know  them  and  converse  with  them 
in  their  best  moments,  for  the  things  we  read  of 
them  comprise  the  best  things  they  said  and  did. 
We  are  in  good  society  while  turning  over  the  pages 
that  report  these.  Our  hearts  thrill  to  their  words 
and  narrated  deeds  as  to  those  of  some  high  com- 
pany to  which  a  rare  good  fortune  has  admitted 
us.  And  they  not  only  inspire  us  at  the  time, 
but  they  linger  long  in  our  remembrance  with  sweet 
and  wholesome  effect.  They  permanently  influence 
for  good  our  characters  and  opinions;  by  familiar 

27 


NINE  GREAT  PREACHERS 

converse  with  them  we  are  able  to  catch  somewhat  j 

of  their  spirit  and  tone.  j 

James  Russell  Lowell  truly  says:  ! 

I 

"As  thrills  of  long-hushed  tone 

Live  in  the  viol,  so  our  souls  grow  fine  | 

With  keen  vibrations  from  the  touch  divine  \ 
Of  noble  natures  gone." 


28 


II 

^  CHRYSOSTOM 


II 

CHRYSOSTOM 

A.  D.  347-407 

Of  the  highest  rank  among  the  great  preachers  of 
Christianity  in  the  past,  "one  of  half  a  dozen  at 
most,"  Dr.  R.  S.  Storrs  says,  was  the  illustrious  John 
of  Antioch,  best  known  by  the  name  of  Chrysostom, 
"of  the  golden  mouth,"  given  him  on  account  of  his 
great  eloquence.  He  was  born  of  noble  parentage 
at  Antioch,  in  347  A.  D.  His  father,  Secundus,  was 
an  officer,  Magister  Militum,  in  the  Imperial  army 
of  Syria.  He,  dying  in  the  infancy  of  his  son,  left 
a  young  widow,  Anthusa,  twenty  years  of  age,  who, 
refusing  to  marry  again,  devoted  herself  to  the  care 
of  her  two  little  children,  John  and  an  older  sister. 
She  appears,  from  all  that  we  can  learn,  to  have  been 
a  remarkable  woman,  remarkable  for  her  piety  and 
for  the  mental  and  moral  qualities  displayed  in  the 
training  of  her  children,  and  the  management  of  the 
considerable  estate  left  by  her  husband.  Chrysos- 
tom himself  informs  us  that  when  his  teacher,  the 
celebrated  Libanius,  heard  of  the  manner  in  which 
she  had  acquitted  herself  of  her  parental  task,  he 
exclaimed:  "Heavens!  what  women  these  Christians 
have!"  She  was  to  her  son  what  Monica  was  to 
Augustine;  it  was  her  influence  and  her  molding 
hand  that  had  most  to  do  with  shaping  his  charac- 
ter. She  jealously  guarded  him  from  the  pollutions 
of  the  great  and  corrupt  city  of  Antioch;  she  pro- 

31 


NINE   GREAT  PREACHERS 

vided  him  with  the  best  instructors;  she  fostered 
and  stimulated  the  extraordinary  mental  gifts  and 
aptitude  for  learning  displayed  by  him  in  childhood; 
and,  above  all,  she  encouraged  him  in  pious  habits 
and  an  intimacy  with  pious  companions. 

Twofold  Environment — Local  and  Imperial 

Consider  the  impressive  local  environment  amid 
which  he  grew  up  and  lived  until  near  the  age  of 
fifty,  and  the  probable  influence  of  it  upon  him. 

Antioch  was  one  of  the  most  splendid  cities  of  the 
Roman  Empire.  Situated  on  the  southern  bank  of 
the  Orontes  within  a  few  miles  of  the  Mediterranean 
Sea,  both  Nature  and  Art  had  made  it  beautiful  and 
imposing.  Readers  of  "Ben  Hur"  will  recall  the 
description  given  in  that  celebrated  work  of  the 
principal  features  of  this  great  metropolis  of  Syria. 
The  descriptions  found  there  represent  quite  faith- 
fully and  truly  what  Antioch  was  in  the  days  of 
its  meridian  splendor,  which  lasted  to  the  time  of 
Chrysostom  and  later.  It  had  a  population  of 
200,000  people,  of  a  heterogeneous  character,  con- 
sisting of  Asiatic,  Syrian,  Greek,  Jewish  and  Roman 
elements.  The  river  Orontes  was  the  principal  gate- 
way through  which  it  was  connected  with  and  en- 
riched by  the  commerce  of  the  world.  All  lands 
contributed  of  their  resources  to  its  wealth  and 
pleasure  and  luxury.  It  was  a  magnificent  city. 
Its  streets  were  adorned  with  covered  collonades  of 
marble,  on  either  side,  beneath  which  its  inhabi- 
tants walked  protected  from  the  scorching  sun  of 

82 


CHRYSOSTOM 

summer  and  the  rains  of  winter.  From  the  moun- 
tains to  the  south,  massive  stone  aqueducts,  whose 
soHd  masonry  remains  to  this  day,  brought  copious 
streams  of  water  to  supply  its  numerous  baths  and 
fountains.  Everywhere  the  cool  refreshing  spray 
and  the  soothing  sounds  of  flowing  water  delighted 
the  senses.  Splendid  villas  in  the  midst  of  beauti- 
ful gardens  adorned  its  suburbs;  likewise  pleasure 
groves  and  parks,  which  the  people  much  frequented. 
Among  the  latter  was  the  celebrated  Grove  of 
Daphne,  described  with  such  fullness  by  General 
Wallace  in  his  famous  work  of  fiction.  It  was  dedi- 
cated to  the  worship  of  Apollo,  was  furnished  with 
every  enticement  to  the  senses,  and  so  rich  in  its 
enchantments  that  the  saying  arose  concerning  it: 
"Better  be  a  worm  and  feed  on  the  mulberries  of 
Daphne  than  a  King's  guest."  In  the  mixed  popu- 
lation of  this  great  city,  "the  impulsive  oriental  tem- 
perament was  the  most  dominant.  They  abandoned 
themselves  freely  to  those  voluptuous  recreations  for 
which  their  city  and  climate  afforded  every  facility 
and  inducement.  The  bath,  the  circus,  the  chariot 
races  and  the  theatre  were  their  constant  amuse- 
ments, and  pursued  by  them  with  the  eagerness  of 
a  pleasure-loving  nature." 

In  the  time  of  Chrysostom,  100,000,  or  one  half 
of  the  population,  was  nominally  Christian.  They 
embraced  all  degrees  of  strictness  from  the  severest 
asceticism  to  almost  pagan  laxity. 

Such  was  the  local  environment,  outside  his  home, 
amid  which  Chrysostom  grew  up  and  lived  there  in 
Antioch. 

33 


NINE  GREAT  PREACHERS 

There  was  still  another  environment  outside  of 
this,  which  needs  also  to  be  considered  if  we  would 
clearly  understand  the  character  and  the  life  of 
Chry  SOS  torn.  It  was  the  environment  which  the 
great  Roman  world  afforded  at  that  particular  time. 
In  the  pages  of  Gibbon  we  read  what  the  conditions 
of  things  then  were.  The  Roman  Empire  was  fast 
declining  under  those  influences  that  brought  it  to 
its  ultimate  downfall.  The  stern  virtue  and  dis- 
cipline which  had  brought  the  world  under  its  sway 
having  become  relaxed,  it  was  undergoing  dissolu- 
tion through  the  joint  operation  of  internal  corrup- 
tion and  external  attack  from  the  barbaric  peoples 
that  lay  outside  its  borders.  There  was  decay  of 
every  kind,  decay  of  domestic  virtue,  decay  of 
patriotism,  decay  of  faith  in  the  old  religion  before 
faith  in  the  new  Christianity  was  strong  enough  to 
take  its  place,  decay  in  the  power  of  law,  decay  of 
industry,  decay  of  all  the  elements  of  security.  We 
get  glimpses  in  the  pages  of  the  historian  of  "a  large 
mass  of  the  population  hovering  midway  between 
Paganism  and  Christianity;  we  detect  an  oppressive 
system  of  taxation;  a  widely  spread  venality  in  the 
administration  of  public  business;  a  general  inse- 
curity of  life  arising  from  the  almost^total  absence 
of  what  we  understand  by  pohce  regulations;  a 
depressed  agriculture;  a  great  slave  population;  a 
vast  turbulent  army  as  dangerous  to  the  peace  of 
society  as  the  enemies  from  whom  it  was  supposed 
to  defend  it;  the  presence  of  barbarians  in  the 
countrj^  as  servants,  soldiers  or  colonists;  the  con- 
stantly impending  danger  from  other  hordes  ever 

34 


CHRYSOSTOM 

hovering  on  the  frontier  and  like  famished  wolves 
gazing  with  hungry  eyes  on  the  plentiful  prey  which 
lay  beyond  it." 

The  imperial  authority,  dependent  for  its  support 
upon  the  favor  of  the  army,  was  a  perilous  and  pre- 
carious possession.  Those  who  held  it  enjoyed  their 
dignity  at  a  tremendous  price  for  themselves  and 
their  families.  Murder  lurked  for  them  on  every 
hand,  and  they  often  fell  victims  to  it.  In  one  of  the 
writings  of  Chrysostom,  his  treatise  de  Virgini- 
tate,  there  is  an  impressive  passage  reviewing  the 
tragical  events  and  misfortunes  that  overtook  the 
wearers  of  the  imperial  purple  during  the  fifty  years 
from  330  to  380.  There  were  nine  emperors  during 
that  time.  Two  onl}^  out  of  the  nine,  died  natural 
deaths.  Of  the  other  seven,  one  had  been  killed 
by  a  usurper,  two  fallen  in  battle,  one  slain  in  a 
sedition  of  his  domestic  guards,  and  one  by  the  man 
who  had  invested  him  with  the  purple ;  one  had  died 
in  a  fit  of  rage,  and  one  with  his  retinue  had  perished 
in  the  flames  of  a  burning  house  to  which  the  Goths 
had  set  fire.  Of  the  widows  of  these  emperors, 
some  had  perished  by  poison,  others  had  died  of 
despair  and  broken  hearts. 

Against  such  miseries  as  these,  how  light  and  in- 
significant in  the  balance  were  all  the  wealth  and 
power  of  the  imperial  office,  and  how  unstable  the 
condition  of  things  in  view  of  them!  An  appre- 
hension, or  foreboding  of  something  dreadful  im- 
pending, pervaded  the  more  serious  and  thoughtful 
portion  of  society  and  tinged  with  solemnity  their 
speech  and  writings.     We  discover  it  in  the  sermons 

35 


NINE   GREAT  PREACHERS 

of  Chrysostom,  and  in  the  writings  of  Augustine 
and  other  Christian  fathers.  It  was  a  condition  of 
things,  however,  that  stimulated  the  good  and  noble 
qualities  of  the  great,  as  well  as  the  corrupt  and  reck- 
less frivolity  of  the  degraded.  The  great  and  the  good 
seem  indeed  to  have  reached  an  extraordinary  stature, 
as  if  society  were  like  a  rank  soil  fattened  by  cor- 
ruption, in  which  good  plants  and  worthless  weeds 
flourish  alike  with  unusual  vigor.  This  statement  is 
borne  out  by  a  consideration  of  the  remarkable  men 
and  women  of  that  time.  Contemporaneous  with 
Chrysostom  in  the  Church  were  Athanasius,  Ambrose, 
Jerome,  Augustine;  in  the  State,  Constantine  the 
Great,  Valentinian,  Theodosius,  and  his  son,  Theo- 
dosius  the  Great;  and  among  the  distinguished 
women,  besides  Anthusa  and  Monica,  were  some  of 
the  most  noble  and  saintly  that  the  world  has  ever 
known.  The  Christian  women  indeed  of  that  age 
surpassed  the  men  in  devotion  to  their  religion. 
But  for  their  strenuous  opposition  the  Emperor 
Julian  thought  that  his  efforts  to  revive  Paganism 
would  have  been  successful. 

Chrysostom  having  such  a  mother,  who  lavished 
upon  him  all  her  wealth  of  love,  grew  up,  amid  the 
twofold  environment  described,  to  manhood  un- 
stained by  the  vice  for  which  Antioch  was  then 
notorious.  As  a  child  he  was  precocious;  as  a  youth, 
diligent  and  ambitious  of  distinction.  Under  the 
instruction  and  training  of  Libanius,  the  rhetori- 
cian, he  enriched  his  mind  with  classical  learning, 
and  with  native  powers  of  natural  eloquence  ac- 
quired the  art  of  effective  speech.     Following  the 

36 


CHRYSOSTOM 

wish  of  his  father's  family,  as  is  supposed,  he  studied 
the  profession  of  law  and  entered  upon  its  practice 
with  the  most  brilliant  prospects.  He  made  some 
pleas  in  the  law  court  which  received  much  public 
applause  and  won  the  praise  of  his  master,  Libanius. 
Of  all  Libanius'  pupils  he  was  the  favorite,  and  to 
his  dying  day  the  old  teacher  mourned  that  the 
Christians  had  stolen  John  from  them.  For  John 
did  not  like  the  profession  of  the  law.  To  his  pure 
and  upright  soul  it  seemed  tarnished  by  chicanery 
and  rapacity,  and  the  gain  it  held  out  to  him  he 
abhorred  as  "the  wages  of  the  devil." 

Prepares  for  the  Ministry 

The  influences  that  led  him  to  abandon  his  pro- 
fession of  the  law  and  at  length  enter  upon  that  of 
the  ministry  were  various.  Chief  among  these  was 
his  friendship  for  a  schoolmate,  Basil,  who  after- 
wards became  a  bishop  in  the  Catholic  Church. 
"He  accompanied  me,"  says  Chrysostom,  "at  all 
times;  we  engaged  in  the  same  studies  and  were 
instructed  by  the  same  teachers;  as  w^e  went  to  our 
lectures  or  returned  from  them  we  were  accustomed 
to  take  counsel  together  on  the  line  of  life  it  would  be 
best  to  adopt." 

The  molding  influence  of  school  friendships! 
Who  can  measure  it,  or  how  powerfully  it  shapes  the 
destiny  of  those  whose  hearts  are  knit  together  by 
it?  The  friendship  between  Chrysostom  and  Basil, 
there  at  the  school  of  Libanius  in  Antioch,  reminds 
us  of  that  between  Professor  Charles  Hodge  and 

37 


NINE   GREAT  PREACHERS 

Bishop  John  Johns  in  their  early  college  days  at 
Princeton.  There  was  the  same  invincible  attach- 
ment, the  same  mutual  admiration  and  the  same 
molding  power  of  each  over  the  other,  resulting  in 
the  greatest  benefit  to  both. 

Basil  decided  upon  a  religious  career  and  this 
decision  separated  him  for  a  time  from  Chrysostom. 
But  separation  from  his  friend  only  increased  Chrysos- 
tom's  attachment  to  him  and  his  discontent  with 
his  own  profession.  He  began  to  withdraw  from  the 
worldly  society  about  him  and  to  give  more  of  his 
time  to  the  study  of  the  Bible,  which  later  in  life, 
he  said,  was  "the  fountain  for  watering  the  soul." 
He  sought  the  acquaintance  of  Meletius,  the  good 
and  wise  Bishop  of  Antioch,  whose  influence  drew  him 
in  the  same  direction  as  Basil's  friendship,  and  after 
a  while  induced  him  to  receive  baptism  and  accept 
the  office  of  reader,  then  the  initiatory  step  to  the 
Christian  ministry.  Entirely  in  accord  now  in  their 
thoughts  and  purposes,  the  two  friends  were  reunited 
and  pursued  with  ardor  the  religious  life  agreed  upon. 
But  for  his  mother's  entreaty  "not  to  leave  her  a 
second  time  a  widow,"  Chrysostom  would  have  gone 
with  his  friend  into  a  monastery.  Denied  this 
wish,  he  resolved,  as  far  as  possible,  to  live  the  life 
of  a  religious  recluse  at  home.  He  adopted  an 
ascetic  diet  and  monastic  discipline,  and  devoted 
himself  with  his  friend  to  a  life  of  prayer,  intense 
study  of  the  Scriptures  and  meditation.  Diodorus, 
a  friend  of  the  good  bishop  Meletius,  and  prior  of 
one  of  the  monasteries  near  Antioch,  directed  their 
studies.     Chrysostom  as  a  preacher  owed  as  much, 

38 


CHRYSOSTOM 

and  possibly  more,  to  the  teaching  of  Diodorus  than 
to  that  of  Libanius.  From  Libanius  he  learned  how 
to  speak  eloquently,  from  Diodorus  he  learned  how  to 
study  the  Bible  whence  he  derived  the  substance  of 
his  speech.  Diodorus  in  fact  taught  him  the  right 
method  of  exegesis,  a  method  of  literal  common- 
sense  interpretation  of  the  Scriptures,  like  that  of 
our  English  Bible  scholars,  in  contrast  to  the  alle- 
gorical and  mystical  interpretation  characteristic  of 
Origen  and  the  Alexandrian  School.  He  taught  him 
also  to  view  the  truth  of  God's  word  in  its  relation 
to  man's  nature  and  needs,  to  see  its  practical 
applications,  and  to  weave  the  stuff  it  afforded  into 
garments  suited  to  human  wear  in  the  various  exe- 
gencies  of  life  as  they  arise. 

Their  great  piety  and  gifts  soon  attracted  the  atten- 
tion of  the  Church  to  Chrysostom  and  his  friend 
Basil,  and,  though  so  young,  they  were  publicly 
spoken  of  as  fit  to  be  made  bishops.  According  to 
the  custom  of  that  time  they  might  any  day  be  seized 
and  compelled  to  accept  the  high  office.  So  Augus- 
tine was  dragged  forcibly  to  the  church,  and  ordained 
to  the  bishopric  in  spite  of  his  protesting  entreaties 
and  tears.  The  two  friends  hearing  what  was  in 
the  air,  were  filled  with  apprehension  and  alarm, 
and  agreed  to  act  together,  either  to  accept  or  evade 
together  the  unwelcome  honor.  Chrysostom,  how- 
ever, broke  his  promise.  When  the  officers  of  the 
Church  came  to  seize  them,  he  contrived  to  have 
Basil  captured  and  made  bishop  while  he  himself 
hid  away  and  escaped.  To  the  subsequent  re- 
proaches of  his  friend  for  having  deceived  him,  he 

39 


NINE  GREAT  PREACHERS 

boldly  answered  that  it  was  "an  excusable  fraud," 
which  the  good  of  the  Church  justified;  and  to  soothe 
and  reconcile  him  wrote  a  treatise  on  the  "Priest- 
hood," showing  its  preeminent  dignity,  and  declar- 
ing the  peculiar  fitness  of  Basil  to  discharge  the 
duties  of  bishop.  This  questionable  act  is  the  only 
blot  on  the  early  name  of  Chrysostom.  It  seems, 
however,  to  have  been  in  accord  with  the  lax  morality 
of  his  age. 

In  a  short  time  his  mother  died  and  he  was  free 
to  indulge  his  wish  to  live  in  religious  retirement 
from  the  world.  Six  years  he  thus  spent  in  the 
seclusion  of  monastery  and  hermit's  cell  in  the 
mountains  to  the  south  of  Antioch.  The  day  and 
the  greater  part  of  the  night  he  spent  in  study,  fast- 
ings and  vigils.  Bread  and  water  formed  his  prin- 
cipal food.  His  zeal  for  the  mortification  of  his 
fleshly  appetite  carried  him  to  the  extreme  limit 
of  asceticism.  In  fact,  he  injured  his  health  and 
was  obliged  to  return  to  the  greater  comfort  of  his 
former  home  in  Antioch. 

About  this  time  he  was  ordained  a  deacon  by  his 
much  revered  bishop,  Meletius,  w^ho  soon  after  died, 
to  be  succeeded  by  Flavian,  under  whose  direction 
Chrysostom  performed  his  diaconal  functions.  In 
that  day  deacons  "were  essentially,  as  the  name  im- 
plies, ministers  or  aids  to  the  bishop,  and  were  often 
styled  the  bishops  'eyes,'  or  *ears,'  or  'right  hand.'" 
Their  duties  consisted  partly  of  service  about  the 
sanctuary  in  connection  with  the  public  worship,  and 
services  of  relief  among  the  sick  and  the  poor  in  the 
parish.     They  were  required  to  search  out  and  bring 

40 


CHRYSOSTOM 

to  the  notice  of  the  bishop  cases  of  distress,  to  dis- 
tribute rehef  under  his  direction  and  to  report  to 
him  moral  and  rehgious  offenses.  The  office  was  a 
good  training  school  for  the  ministry  of  the  Gospel. 
During  the  five  years  that  Chrysostom  filled  it,  he 
labored  with  great  zeal  and  activity,  and  stored 
his  mind  with  a  knowledge  of  human  nature  in  its 
great  diversity  and  variety,  as  displayed  in  the  man- 
ners and  practices  of  the  people,  that  was  of  great 
value  to  him  afterwards  in  his  preaching. 

His  Personal  Qualities 

He  possessed  a  keenly  observant  and  discrimi- 
nating mind  with  a  genial,  kindly  spirit  and  a  power 
of  sympathetic  imagination  that  enabled  him  vividly 
to  imagine  with  exactness  and  sympathy  the  cir- 
cumstances and  scenes  amid  which  men  moved  and 
lived.  This  is  why  he  has  ever  been  a  favorite  author 
with  historians  like  Gibbon,  and  great  preachers  like 
Isaac  Barrow  and  Cardinal  Newman.  They  have 
found  in  his  works  the  richest  suggestions  and  most 
valuable  matter  suited  to  their  purpose.  He  speaks 
and  "writes,"  says  Newman,  "as  one  who  was  ever 
looking  out  with  sharp  but  kindly  eyes  upon  the 
world  of  men  and  their  history,  and  hence  he  has  al- 
ways something  to  produce  about  them,  new  or 
old,  to  the  purpose  of  his  argument.  I  speak  of  his 
versatile  recognition  of  men  one  by  one,  for  the  sake 
of  that  portion  of  good  which  has  severally  been 
lodged  in  them;  his  eager  contemplation  of  the 
many  things  they  do,  effect,  or  produce;  of  all  their 

41 


NINE  GREAT  PREACHERS 

great  works,  as  nations  or  as  states;  of  the  graphic 
fidelity  with  which  he  notes  them  down  upon  the 
tablets  of  his  mind,  and  of  the  promptitude  and  pro- 
priety with  which  he  calls  them  up  as  arguments  or 
illustrations  in  the  course  of  his  teaching  as  the 
occasion  requires." 

It  was  after  such  a  long  course  of  preparation, 
covering  fifteen  years  of  study  in  the  schools  of 
Libanius  and  Diodorus,  and  in  the  religious  seclu- 
sion of  the  monastery  and  hermit's  cell,  and  five 
years  of  practical  training  in  the  diaconate,  in  which 
he  exercised  his  powers  of  observation  to  such  good 
purpose,  that  he  came  at  length  upon  the  work  of 
the  ministry,  being  ordained  presbyter  by  Bishop 
Flavian  in  386,  when  he  was  in  the  fortieth  year  of 
his  age.  The  course  of  preparation  seems  to  have 
been  long,  but  the  work  he  was  to  do  in  the  twenty 
years  that  remained  of  his  life  was  great.  Those 
twenty  years  were  about  evenly  divided  between 
the  offices  of  preacher  at  Antioch  and  of  Archbishop 
of  Constantinople.  Immediately  after  his  ordination 
he  was  appointed  by  his  bishop,  Flavian,  to  preach 
in  the  principal  church  of  the  city  where  the  bishop 
himself  officiated.  Chrysostom  at  once  rose  to  the 
zenith  of  fame  as  a  preacher,  and  for  ten  years  his 
pulpit  labors  were  incessant  with  no  abatement  of 
his  popularity. 

His  Great  Eloquence 

"The  people  flocked  to  him,"  says  Sozomen.  "As 
often  as  he  preached  he  carried  them  away  one  and 
all.     They  hung  upon  his  words  and  could  not  have 

42 


CHRYSOSTOM 

enough  of  them.  He  held  them  spellbound  to  the 
end."  So  close  and  all-absorbing  was  the  attention 
he  commanded  and  so  great  the  crowd  that  thronged 
the  church  to  hear  him,  that  pickpockets  plied  their 
trade  right  there  in  the  church  with  great  success. 

Let  us  try  to  get  a  true  and  clear  conception  of  his 
personal  appearance,  manner,  and  qualities  as  a 
preacher.  Like  many  men  of  commanding  genius, 
Athanasius,  John  Wesley,  Shleiermacher,  Louis 
XIV,  Bonaparte,  he  was  little  of  stature,  but 
of  such  dignity  of  bearing  that  he  produced,  as  it 
were,  an  illusion  of  greatness.  When  he  was  speak- 
ing, especially,  his  witchery  of  speech  made  him 
often  seem  majestic,  reminding  one  of  what  Boswell 
said  of  William  Wilberforce:  "I  saw  a  mere  shrimp 
of  a  man  mount  the  platform,  but  as  I  listened  he 
grew  and  grew  until  the  shrimp  became  a  whale." 
Chrysostom's  diminutive  stature  was  the  less  notice- 
able probabl}^  from  the  fact  that  he  usually  sat  in 
a  raised  position  when  preaching,  while  the  people 
stood,  eagerly  crowding  as  close  as  possible  to  him. 
He  had  a  large  bald  head  with  a  broad  lofty  forehead, 
deep-set  piercing  eyes,  with  a  searching  but  benignant 
look,  and  an  expressive  mouth.  That  mouth  from 
the  epithet  given  him,  "mouth  of  gold,"  was  rich 
in  tone  and  most  opulent  in  expression. 

He  possessed  extraordinary  fluency.  A  contem- 
porary compares  it  to  the  inexhaustible  flow  of  the 
river  Nile.     And  yet,   as   Cardinal  Newman  says: 

"It  was  not  by  the  fertility  of  his  imagination,  nor 
the  splendor  of  his  diction  that  he  gained  the  sur- 
name  of   the   *  Mouth   of   Gold.'"     His   oratorical 

43 


NINE  GREAT  PREACHERS 

power  was  but  the  instrument  by  which  he  readily, 
gracefully,  adequately  expressed,  expressed  without 
effort  and  with  felicity,  the  keen  feelings,  the  living 
ideas,  the  earnest  practical  lessons  which  he  had 
to  communicate  to  his  hearers.  He  spoke  because 
his  heart,  his  head,  were  brimful  of  things  to  speak 
about.  His  unrivaled  charm,  as  that  of  every 
really  eloquent  man,  lay  in  his  singleness  of  purpose, 
his  fixed  grasp  of  aim,  his  noble  earnestness. 

He  combined  in  himself,  as  a  study  of  his  ser- 
mons shows,  the  excellencies  of  several  preachers. 
He  had  the  florid  exuberance  of  Jeremy  Taylor,  the 
fire  and  vehemence  of  Savonarola,  the  declamatory 
splendor  of  Bossuet  and  the  straightforward  ear- 
nestness and  practical  good  sense  of  John  Wesley. 

He  often  displayed  in  speaking  an  eager  and  im- 
petuous spirit  like  that  of  a  soldier  rushing  to  battle. 
It  was  as  if  this  son  of  a  Roman  soldier  felt  in  him- 
self the  martial  spirit  of  his  father  urging  him  on. 
You  seem  to  hear  in  his  sentences  the  notes  of  the 
bugle  sounding  the  charge  of  the  Roman  legions. 
A  discriminating  student  of  his  life,  himself  a  dis- 
tinguished orator  and  preacher,  commenting  on  this 
characteristic  of  Chrysostom  says:  "There  is  some- 
thing martial  in  all  real  oratory;  the  attack,  the 
earnest  seizing  of  the  situation,  the  amassing  of  the 
powers,  the  gathering  of  manifold  forces  and  hurling 
them  all  with  resistless  strength  against  the  foe — 
this  oftentimes  constitutes  the  movement  of  the 
real  orator,  and  in  Chrysostom's  life  there  was  this 
martial  power,  not  only  in  his  tongue  but  also  in  his 
achievements." 

44 


CHRYSOSTOM 

We  here  present  to  our  readers  one  or  two  exam- 
ples, asking  them  to  remember  while  they  are  lis- 
tening to  or  reading  them,  what  a  contemporary^ 
says  of  Summerfield's  eloquence,  that  "every  at- 
tempt thus  to  present  the  splendid  effects  of  impas- 
sioned eloquence  is  like  gathering  up  dew  drops, 
which  appear  jewels  and  pearls  on  the  grass,  but  run 
to  water  in  the  hand;  the  essence  and  the  elements 
remain;  but  the  grace,  the  sparkle,  and  the  form  are 
gone." 

Chrysostom  enjoins  it  as  a  duty_upon  every  Chris- 
tian to  labor  for  the  spiritual  welfare  of  his  fellow- 
men.  He  insists  that  "Neither  poverty  nor  human 
station,  nor  business,  nor  family  cares,  nor  bodily 
infirmity  can  exempt  one  from  the  obligation  of  this 
duty."  "Say  not,"  he  says,  "within  thyself,  I  am 
a  man  of  the  world;  I  have  a  wife  and  children,  these 
matters  belong  to  the  priests  and  the  monks.  The 
Samaritan  in  the  parable  did  not  say  'Where  are 
the  priests .f^'  'Where  are  the  Pharisees.^'  'Where  are 
the  Jewish  authorities?'  but  seized  the  opportunity 
of  doing  a  good  deed,  as  if  it  were  a  great  advantage. 
In  like  manner  when  you  see  anyone  requiring 
bodily  or  spiritual  care,  say  not  within  thyself,  '  Why 
did  not  this,  or  that  man  attend  to  him?'  But 
deliver  him  from  his  infirmity.  If  you  find  a  piece 
of  gold  in  your  path  you  do  not  say,  'Why  did  not 
some  other  person  pick  it  up?'  but  you  eagerly  antici- 
pate others  by  seizing  it  yourself.  Even  so  in  the 
case  of  your  fallen  brethren,  consider  that  you  have 
found  a  treasure  in  them  and  give  the  attention 
necessary  for  their  wants." 

45 


NINE  GREAT  PREACHERS 

Those  who  noisily  crowded  forward  to  the  Lord's 
Table  he  thus  admonishes:  "Approach  with  fear 
and  trembling,  with  fasting  and  prayer;  not  making 
an  uproar,  hustling  and  jostling  one  another;  con- 
sider, O  man,  what  kind  of  sacrifice  thou  art  about 
to  handle;  consider  that  thou,  who  art  dust  and  ashes, 
dost  receive  the  body  and  blood  of  Christ." 

To  those  who  would  fain  hurry  away  from  the 
Eucharist  before  the  service  is  done,  he  says :  "  What, 
when  Christ  is  present,  and  the  angels  are  standing 
by,  and  this  awe-inspiring  Table  is  spread  before 
you,  and  your  brethren  are  still  partaking  of  the 
mysteries,  will  you  hurry  away?" 

Though  his  style  is  exuberant,  it  is  rarely  redun- 
dant; every  word  is  a  telling  word.  At  times  it  is 
strikingly  epigrammatic.  Examples:  "The  fire  of 
sin  is  great,  but  it  is  quenched  by  a  few  tears." 
"Pain  was  given  because  of  sin,  yet  through  pain 
sin  is  dissolved."  "Riches  are  called  possessions, 
that  we  may  possess  them,  not  be  possessed  by  them." 
"You  are  master  of  much  wealth;  do  not  be  a  slave 
to  that  whereof  God  has  made  you  master."  "Scrip- 
ture relates  the  sins  of  saints,  that  we  may  fear;  the 
conversion  of  sinners,  that  we  may  hope." 

He  held  a  rational  Scriptural  theology — an  im- 
portant condition  of  success  for  the  preacher.  He 
taught  that  "Man  fell  through  his  own  indolent 
negligence;  but  his  nature  was  not  thereby  essen- 
tially changed,  it  was  only  weakened."  "Evil  is 
not  an  integral  part  of  man,  it  is  not  an  inherent 
substantial  force."  "There  is  no  constraint  either 
to  holiness  or  to  sin;  neither  does  God  compel  to  the 

46 


CHRYSOSTOM 

one,  nor  do  the  fleshly  appetites  compel  to  the 
other."  "It  is  the  moral  purpose  that  is  perverted 
when  men  sin.  The  whole  burden  of  responsibility 
in  sin  must  be  thrown  on  the  moral  purpose."  "If 
man's  will  was  not  unfettered,  there  would  be  no 
merit  in  goodness  and  no  blame  in  evil."  "We  do 
not  try  to  alter  that  which  is  by  nature;  sin,  there- 
fore, is  not  by  nature,  because  by  means  of  educa- 
tion, laws  and  punishments  we  do  not  seek  to  alter 
that.  Though  sin  is  not  a  part  of  man's  nature,  his 
nature  is  readily  inclined  to  evil.  But  this  tendency 
may  be  controlled  by  a  healthy  moral  purpose." 

While  he  thus  insists  upon  the  freedom  of  man's 
will  and  his  actual  responsibility  for  his  conduct, 
Chrysostom  also  asserts  human  insuflficiency  to 
accomplish  good  without  the  divine  assistance.  He 
describes  the  power  of  sin  over  the  heart  in  the 
strongest  terms:  "It  is  a  heavy  burden,  more 
oppressive  than  lead;  it  is  more  terrible  than  a 
demon,  it  is  a  great  demon;  it  is  like  fire.  When 
once  it  has  got  hold  on  the  thoughts  of  the  heart, 
if  it  is  not  quenched,  it  spreads  further  and  further, 
and  becomes  increasingly  difficult  to  subdue." 
"Christ  saw  us  perishing  under  the  power  of  sin 
and  He  took  compassion  on  us.  His  redemption 
plan  embraces  all,  but  it  constrains  no  one.  His 
purpose  is  limited  by  man's  freedom  of  choice. 
God's  election  is  not  compulsory  but  persuasive. 
Only  they  who  are  drawn  and  taught  by  the  Father 
can  come  to  Christ;  but  away  with  the  pretense 
that  those  who  are  not  thus  drawn  and  taught  are 
emancipated  from  blame;  for  this  very  thing,  the 

47 


NINE  GREAT  PREACHERS 

being  led  and  taught,  depends  on  their  own  moral 
choice."  He  maintains  the  equal  divinity  and 
distinct  personality  of  the  Holy  Ghost.  He  main- 
tains also  both  the  humanity  and  the  divinity  of 
Christ.  "Our  nature  could  not  have  been  elevated 
to  the  divine,  if  the  Savior  had  not  really  partaken 
of  it;  neither  could  He  have  brought  help  to  our  race 
if  He  had  appeared  in  the  unveiled  glory  of  His 
God-head;  for  man  would  have  perished  at  the 
brightness  of  His  presence." 

In  regard  to  the  divinity  of  Christ  and  his  con- 
tinued presence  and  activity  in  the  world,  he  holds 
the  most  orthodox  opinions. 

In  his  "Homilies  against  the  Arians,"  he  thus 
speaks  of  the  obstacles  overcome  by  Christianity 
and  the  proof  which  the  wonderful  successes  of  the 
Church  afford  as  to  the  divinity  of  the  founder  of 
it:  "In  a  short  space  of  time  Christianity  had 
abolished  ancestral  customs,  plucked  up  deeply- 
rooted  habits,  overturned  altars  and  temples,  caused 
unclean  rites  and  ceremonials  to  vanish  away.  The 
customs  abolished  were  not  only  venerated  but  pleas- 
ant; yet  these  were  abandoned  for  a  religion  which 
substituted  fasting  for  enjoyment,  poverty  for  money 
getting,  temperance  for  lasciviousness,  meekness 
for  wrath,  benevolence  for  ill-will.  Men,  enervated 
by  luxury  and  accustomed  to  the  broad  way,  had 
been  converted  into  the  narrow,  rugged  path  by 
multitudes  under  the  whole  heaven.  These  mighty 
results  had  been  wrought  by  a  few  unlearned,  obscure 
men,  without  rank,  without  money,  without  elo- 
quence.    And  all  this  in  the  teeth  of   opposition 

48 


CHRYSOSTOM 

of  the  most  varied  kind.  Yet  in  spite  of  persecu- 
tion and  the  disruption  of  social  ties,  the  new  faith 
flourished.  How  contrary  to  the  common  course 
of  events,  that  He  who  was  despised,  weak  and  put 
to  an  ignominious  death,  should  now  be  honored 
and  adored  in  all  regions  of  the  earth!  Emperors, 
who  have  made  laws  and  altered  the  constitution 
of  States,  who  have  ruled  nations  by  their  nod,  in 
whose  hands  was  the  power  of  life  and  death,  pass 
away;  their  images  are  in  time  destroyed,  their 
actions  forgotten,  their  adherents  despised,  their 
very  names  buried  in  oblivion,  present  grandeur  suc- 
ceeded by  nothingness.  In  the  case  of  Jesus  Christ 
all  is  reversed.  During  his  lifetime  all  seemed 
failure  and  degredation,  but  a  career  of  glory  and 
triumph  succeeded  his  death.  How  could  such  un- 
precedented marvels  have  come  to  pass  but  through 
the  divine  power  and  in  obedience  to  that  word  of 
God  which  is  creative  of  actual  results?  Just  as 
when  he  said,  *Let  the  earth  bring  forth  grass,'  the 
wilderness  became  a  garden,  so  when  the  expression 
of  his  purpose  had  gone  forth,  'I  will  build  my 
church, '  straightway  the  process  began,  and  though 
tyrants  and  people,  sophists  and  orators,  custom  and 
religion  had  been  arrayed  against  it,  yet  the  word, 
going  forth  like  fire,  consumed  the  thorns,  and 
scattered  the  good  seed  over  the  purified  soil." 

The  most  memorable  occurrence  that  happened 
during  the  ten  years  of  Chrysostom's  pastorate 
in  Antioch  was  the  "Riot  of  the  Statues,"  in  387 
A.  D.  It  arose  in  this  way:  In  the  following  year 
of  388  A.  D.,  the  emperor,  Theodosius  the  Great, 

49 


NINE   GREAT  PREACHERS 

would  celebrate  the  tenth  anniversary  of  his  own 
reign,  and  the  fifth  of  that  of  Arcadius,  his  son, 
whom  he  had  associated  with  himself  in  the  empire. 
The  army  on  such  occasions  claimed  a  donative  of 
five  gold  pieces  to  each  soldier.  To  raise  the  con- 
siderable amount  thus  required,  Theodosius  made 
a  special  levy  upon  the  great  cities.  The  edict 
which  proclaimed  the  levy  made  upon  Antioch, 
produced  there  a  great  outcry  of  discontent.  The 
men  openly  uttered  their  complaints,  and  the  women 
loudly  lamented  the  hardship  and  ruin  thus  imposed 
on  the  city.  A  crowd  gathered,  which  soon  became  a 
riotous  mob  and  committed  various  acts  of  violence. 
The  rioters  rushed  to  the  pretorium  and  forced  their 
way  to  the  governor's  audience  room  demanding  an 
abrogation  or  abatement  of  the  levy.  The  governor 
was  not  there;  but  they  were  confronted  by  the 
statues  of  the  imperial  family  set  up  there  to  give 
dignity  to  the  place.  A  momentary  awe  checked 
and  subdued  them  to  silence,  until  a  boy  in  the 
crowd  hurled  a  stone  at  one  of  the  statues  by  which 
it  was  shattered.  The  spell  of  reverence  was  thus 
broken,  and  the  mob  was  emboldened  to  other  acts 
of  vandalism,  until  the  different  images  of  the  Em- 
peror and  his  father  and  the  beloved  Empress,  who 
had  recently  died,  were  thrown  down,  dragged  in  the 
streets  and  mutilated.  Soon  their  rage  spent  itself 
and  then  there  came  a  revulsion  of  terror  and  dismay. 
Such  acts  of  insult  to  the  imperial  family  were  treason 
of  the  worst  kind.  The  Emperor,  though  a  nominal 
Christian  and  man  of  noble  qualities,  possessed  a 
quick  and  ungovernable  temper.     In  his  paroxysms 

50 


CHRYSOSTOM 

of  rage  he  showed  no  mercy.  He  might  pardon  the 
insult  done  to  himself,  but  he  was  not  likely  to  for- 
give that  done  to  his  noble  father  and  his  beloved 
wife,  Flacilla,  for  whose  recent  loss  his  heart  was  still 
sore.  A  vision  of  direful  retribution,  of  destruction 
and  slaughter,  such  as  was  to  befall  Thessalonica 
three  years  later  through  the  rage  of  Theodosius, 
arose  before  the  mental  sight  of  the  terror-stricken 
city,  and  the  people  gave  themselves  up  to  feelings 
of  anguish  and  despair.  In  this  emergency  the 
power  of  Christianity  to  soothe,  control,  comfort, 
and  encourage  was  signally  displayed.  The  aged 
bishop,  Flavian,  hastened  in  the  depth  of  winter 
to  Constantinople  to  intercede  with  the  wrathful 
Emperor  in  behalf  of  the  offending  city,  and  Chrys- 
ostom,  meanwhile,  day  after  day,  addressed  the 
people  who  thronged  to  hear  him  speak  upon  the 
requirements  of  the  situation.  It  was  his  oppor- 
tunity to  turn  them  to  God,  and  he  faithfully  im- 
proved it.  His  eloquence  sounded  through  the  whole 
gamut  of  encouragement  and  persuasion.  His  words 
fell  upon  their  anxious  souls  like  the  rays  of  the 
sun  upon  the  darkness  of  night,  by  which  the  morn- 
ing Cometh.  He  urges  them  to  a  hearty  repentance 
of  their  sin.  He  wrestles  to  win  their  souls;  he  con- 
vinces them  of  their  past  follies;  he  leads  them  to 
hope  in  God.  Thus  he  saves  them,  whatever  the 
Emperor  might  do.  When  Flavian  returns  at  the 
end  of  some  weeks  with  the  imperial  forgiveness, 
he  finds  the  city  chastened  and  purified,  and  three 
thousand  converts  ready  for  baptism.  During  his 
absence    Chrysostom's    preaching    had    infused    in 

51 


NINE   GREAT  PREACHERS 

them  a  new  spirit  and  life.  It  had  proved  itself  a 
marvelous  power  to  control  and  calm  the  seething 
vortex  of  passion.  It  had  accomplished  more  to  tran- 
quilize  and  correct  the  city  than  many  legions  of  sol- 
diers would  have  done. 

These  sermons,  relating  to  the  "Riot  of  the  Stat- 
ues," have  been  preserved  for  us  by  the  shorthand 
reporters  of  that  time,  probably  revised  by  the 
preacher  and  published  subsequently  by  his  consent. 
We  are  privileged  to  read  careful  translations  of 
them.  They  may  be  found  in  the  ninth  volume  of 
*'The  Nicene  and  Post-Nicene  Fathers." 

In  them  the  eloquence  of  Chrysostom  probably 
reached  the  high-water  mark.  We  are  tempted  to 
quote  some  passages  from  them,  in  spite  of  the 
peril  of  excess  and  the  certain  danger  of  utterly 
failing  to  give  any  true  idea  of  the  eloquence  of  the 
preacher  in  the  absence  of  that  unreportable  per- 
sonal charm  so  essential  to  the  impression. 

He  thus  describes  the  change  produced  in  Antioch 
when  the  fear  and  dread  of  the  Emperor's  wrath 
had  smitten  it  with  silence  and  solitude:  "Aforetime 
there  was  nothing  happier  than  our  city;  now  noth- 
ing is  more  melancholy  than  it  has  become.  As 
bees  buzzing  around  their  hives,  so  before  this,  the 
inhabitants  flitted  daily  about  the  forum,  and  all 
pronounced  us  happy  in  being  so  numerous.  But 
behold,  that  hive  hath  now  becdme  solitary;  for 
even  as  smoke  drives  away  the  bees,  so  hath  fear 
dispersed  our  swarms.  .  .  .  They  desert  it  as  if 
it  were  a  dungeon;  they  leap  out  of  it  as  out  of  a  fire. 
.     .     .     Our  calamity  has  become  an  enigma — a 

52 


CHRYSOSTOM 

flight  without  enemies;  an  expulsion  of  inhabitants 
without  a  battle.  .  .  .  We  have  not  seen  the 
watch  fires  of  barbarians  nor  beheld  the  face  of 
enemies;  yet  we  suffer  what  those  do  who  have  so 
been  smitten.  .  .  .  There  is  a  silence  big  with 
horror.  Loneliness  is  everywhere.  That  dear  hum 
of  the  multitude  is  stifled;  and  even  as  though  we 
had  gone  under  the  earth,  speechlessness  hath  taken 
possession  of  the  town,  while  all  men  seem  as  stones. 
.  .  .  For  he  who  has  been  insulted  hath  not  his 
equal  in  dignity  upon  earth.  ...  On  this 
account,  then,  let  us  take  refuge  in  the  King  who 
is  above.     Him  let  us  call  to  our  aid." 

Of  what  gives  dignity  to  a  city  he  says:  "Learn 
what  the  dignity  of  a  city  is,  and  then  thou  wilt  see 
clearly  that  if  the  inhabitants  thereof  do  not  betray 
it,  no  one  else  can  take  away  its  honor.  Dost  thou 
wish  to  learn  the  dignity  of  this  city.^  I  will  tell  it 
exactly,  not  that  thou  mayest  know  it  merely,  but 
that  thou  mayest  emulate  it  also.  This  it  is:  'It 
came  to  pass  that  the  disciples  were  first  called 
Christians  at  Antioch.'  Dost  thou  wish  to  hear 
further  of  another  dignity  belonging  to  this  city?  A 
grievous  famine  was  once  approaching,  and  the 
inhabitants  of  Antioch  determined,  as  each  had  the 
means,  to  send  relief  to  the  saints  at  Jerusalem. 
.  .  .  They  also  sent  Paul  and  Barnabas  to  Jeru- 
salem, and  cautioned  the  apostles  to  provide  that 
pure  doctrine  should  be  distributed  over  the  world. 
This  is  the  dignity  of  this  city.  This  makes  it  a 
metropolis,  not  in  the  earth  only,  but  as  related  to 
the  heavens.     ...     I  have  heard  many  saying 

53 


NINE  GREAT  PREACHERS 

in  the  Forum:  'Alas  for  thee,  Antioch!  What  hath 
befallen  thee?'  When  I  heard,  I  smiled  at  the  puerile 
spirit,  which  gave  vent  to  such  words.  When  thou 
seest  men  dancing,  drunken,  singing,  blaspheming, 
perjuring  themselves,  lying,  then  use  such  words  as 
these:  *Alas  for  thee,  O  city!  What  hath  befallen 
thee?'  But  if  thou  seest  the  Forum  containing 
meek,  modest,  temperate  persons,  even  though  they 
be  few,  then  pronounce  the  city  blessed.  When 
you  wish  to  extol  it;  tell  me  not  of  the  suburb  of 
Daphne,  nor  of  the  height  and  multitude  of  its  cy- 
presses, nor  of  its  flowing  fountains  of  waters;  nor 
of  the  great  population  which  inhabits  the  town, 
nor  of  the  safety  of  its  markets  and  the  abundance 
of  its  wares.  But,  if  you  can,  speak  of  virtue,  meek- 
ness, almsgiving,  nightly  visions,  prayers,  sobriety, 
true  wisdom  of  soul,  for  these  things  commend  the 
city." 

He  thus  commends  the  example  of  Nineveh  to 
Antioch,  as  worthy  of  its  imitation.  "Thus  was  that 
city  agitated  when  it  heard  the  prophet's  voice,  but 
instead  of  being  injured,  it  was  benefited  by  fear, 
for  that  fear  became  the  cause  of  its  safety.  The 
threatening  effected  the  deliverance  from  peril;  the 
sentence  of  overthrow  put  a  stop  to  the  overthrow. 
.  .  .  They  did  not  flee  from  the  city  as  we  are 
doing,  but  remaining  in  it  they  caused  it  to  stand. 
They  fled  not  from  their  buildings,  but  from  their 
sins.  .  .  .  They  trusted  for  safety  not  to  a 
change  of  habitations,  but  to  a  change  of  habits." 

He  puts  into  the  mouth  of  their  good  bishop 
Flavian,  interceding  in  their  behalf,  this  appeal  to 

54 


CHRYSOSTOM 

the  offended  Emperor:  "Were  your  statues  thrown 
down?  You  have  it  m  your  power  to  set  up  others 
more  splendid.  If  you  remit  the  offenses  of  those 
who  have  done  you  this  injury,  and  take  not  revenge 
on  them,  they  will  erect  a  statue  to  you,  not  in  the 
forum,  of  brass  or  of  gold,  or  inlaid  with  gems,  but 
one  arrayed  in  that  robe,  which  is  more  precious 
then  anything  material,  of  clemency  and  tender 
mercy.  Every  man  will  thus  exalt  you  within  his 
own  soul;  and  you  will  have  as  many  statues  as  there 
are  men  who  inhabit,  or  who  hereafter  shall  inhabit, 
the  entire  world." 

He  thus  exhorts  them  to  find  in  the  bee  a  good 
model  for  their  imitation:  "Whilst  from  the  ant 
thou  learnest  industry,  take  from  the  bee  a  lesson 
at  once  of  industry,  and  of  mutual  helpfulness.  For 
it  is  not  more  for  herself  than  for  us  that  the  bee 
labors  and  is  every  day  weary;  which  is  a  thing 
especially  proper  for  a  Christian,  not  to  seek  his 
own  things  only,  but  the  things  of  others.  As,  then, 
she  traverses  the  meadows,  that  she  may  provide 
a  banquet  for  another,  so  also  do  thou,  O  man.  If 
thou  hast  accumulated  wealth,  expend  it  upon 
others.  If  thou  hast  the  faculty  of  teaching,  bury 
not  the  talent,  but  bring  it  forth  publicly  for  those 
who  need  it.  If  thou  hast  any  other  special  endow- 
ment, become  useful  by  it  to  those  who  need  the 
fruit  of  thy  labor.  Seest  thou  not  that  for  this 
very  reason  the  bee  is  more  honored  than  other 
insects — not  because  she  labors  merely,  but  because 
she  labors  for  others?  For  the  spider  also  labors, 
and  spreads  his  fine  textures  upon  the  walls,  sur- 

55 


NINE  GREAT  PREACHERS  ! 

passing  the  utmost  skill  of  women;  but  he  is  stil: 
without  estimation,  since  his  work  is  no  way  profit- 
able to  us.  Such  are  they  who  labor  and  are  weary, 
but  only  for  themselves." 

He  thus  touches  upon  the  folly  of  the  passion  for 
riches:  "A  covetous  man  is  one  thing;  a  rich  man  is 
quite  another.  A  covetous  man  is  never  rich.  H( 
is  in  want  of  many  things,  and  while  he  needs  sc 
many  things  he  cannot  be  rich.  A  covetous  man  if 
a  keeper,  not  a  master,  of  wealth;  its  slave,  not  itj 
lord.  He  would  sooner  give  one  a  portion  of  hh 
flesh  than  of  his  hidden  gold.  As  though  he  were 
ordered  and  constrained  by  some  one  to  touch  noth 
ing  of  these  concealed  treasures,  with  all  diligence 
he  keeps  them,  abstaining  from  his  own  as  if  it  were 
another's.  Yet,  indeed,  they  are  not  his  own;  foi 
what  he  can  neither  determine  to  bestow  upon  others 
nor  yet  to  distribute  to  the  needy,  though  in  con- 
sequence he  encounter  punishment,  how  can  he 
possibly  count  that  his  own?  .  .  .  Abrahan 
was  rich,  but  he  was  not  covetous.  .  .  .  This 
man  let  us  imitate,  beloved.  His  lodging  was  rude 
but  it  was  more  distinguished  than  kingly  saloons 
No  king  has  entertained  angels;  but  he,  dwelling 
under  an  oak,  and  having  only  briefly  pitched  his 
tent  there,  was  thought  worthy  of  that  honor;  nol 
receiving  the  honor  on  account  of  the  meanness  oi 
his  abode,  but  enjoying  the  benefit  on  accouni 
of  the  magnificence  of  it  and  the  riches  thai 
were  therein  laid  up.  Let  us  adorn  our  souls 
before  our  houses.  What  doth  thy  house  profil 
thee,  O  man.^     Wilt  thou  take  it  with  thee  wher 

56 


CHRYSOSTOM 

thou  departest?  But  thy  soul  thou  shalt  surely 
carry  with  thee." 

Speaking  of  the  visible  universe,  he  says:  "Seest 
thou  its  greatness?  Seest  thou  its  beauty?  Marvel 
at  the  power  of  Him  who  made  it,  at  the  wisdom 
which  adorned  it.  This  it  was  which  the  prophet 
signified  when  he  said:  'The  heavens  declare  the 
glory  of  God.'  How,  then,  tell  me,  do  they  declare 
it?  Voice  they  have  none;  mouth  they  possess  not; 
no  tongue  is  theirs;  how  then  do  they  declare?  By 
means  of  the  spectacle  itself.  For  when  thou  seest 
the  beauty,  the  breadth,  the  height,  the  position, 
the  form,  the  stability  thereof  during  so  long  a 
period,  being  instructed  by  the  spectacle,  thou 
adorest  him  who  created  a  body  so  fair  and  strange. 
The  heavens  may  be  silent,  but  the  sight  of  them 
emits  a  voice  that  is  louder  than  a  trumpet's  sound, 
instructing  us  not  by  the  ear,  but  through  the  eyes. 
.  Upon  this  volume  the  unlearned  as  well  as 
the  wise  man  shall  be  able  to  look,  the  poor  man  as 
well  as  the  rich  man,  and  wherever  any  one  may 
chance  to  come,  there  looking  upwards  towards  the 
heavens,  he  will  receive  a  sufficient  lesson  from  the 
view  of  them." 

After  various  admonitions  of  this  sort,  he  adds: 
"Say  these  things  to  others,  and  observe  them 
yourselves.  I  know  that  in  this  pla^e  (i.  e.  the 
church)  we  become  more  reverent,  and  lay  aside 
our  evil  habits  (as  profanity  and  slander).  But 
what  is  to  be  desired  is  this,  that  we  depart  taking 
this  reverence  with  us  to  where  we  especially  need 
it.     For  those  who  carry  water  do  not  seek  merely 

57 


NINE  GREAT  PREACHERS 

to  have  their  vessels  full  when  they  are  near  the 
fountain,  and  then  empty  them  when  they  reach 
home;  but  they  set  them  down  there  with  particular 
care,  lest  they  be  overturned,  and  their  labor  become 
useless.  Let  us  imitate  this  process,  and  when  we 
reach  home  let  us  strictly  retain  what  has  here  been 
spoken;  since,  if  ye  have  here  gotten  full,  but  return 
empty  to  your  houses,  having  the  vessels  of  your 
understanding  there  destitute  of  what  here  you  have 
heard,  there  will  be  for  you  no  advantage  from  your 
present  replenishment.  Show  me  religion,  not  at 
the  season,  but  in  the  time  of  personal  practice." 

These  quotations  will  suffice  to  show  the  remark- 
able qualities  of  the  man  and  his  deserved  eminence. 
What  powers  of  creative  inagination  and  of  original 
thought!  What  affluence  of  mind  in  beautiful  and 
suggestive  ideas  pertinent  to  his  theme  and  strength- 
ening his  argument!  Not  only  was  the  flow  of  his 
words  like  that  of  the  Nile,  inexhaustible,  but  his 
mind  like  the  Nile  was  charged  with  richness,  which 
it  dropped  in  its  progress  all  along  its  course,  for 
the  fertilization  of  truth  to  the  production  of  har- 
vests of  virtue. 

A  study  of  his  sermons  and  of  their  effect  gives  the 
impression  that  Chrysostom  was  not  only  a  great 
preacher  for  the  age  in  which  he  lived,  but  one  of  the 
greatest  of  all  the  Christian  centuries.  In  this 
opinion  we  are  confirmed  by  the  judgment  of  the 
late  Dr.  R.  S.  Storrs,  who  says  that  "among  the 
great  preachers  of  the  world  he  held  nearly,  if  not 
quite,  the  foremost  place.  I  have  read  many  ser- 
mons of  Augustine  and  Gregory,  not  a  few  of  the 

58 


CHRYSOSTOM 

great  medieval  preachers,  from  Bernard  of  Clair- 
vaux  to  John  Tanler;  a  goodly  number  from  Bos- 
suet,  Massillon  and  other  famous  preachers  of  France, 
with  many  of  the  English  pulpit,  from  Taylor  and 
South  to  Robert  Hall,  Newman,  Liddon  and  the 
others,  with  our  own  Phillips  Brooks,  and  I  do  not 
know,  for  myself,  where  to  find  certainly  the  supe- 
lior,  in  this  special  function,  of  this  presbyter  in 
Antioch,  fifteen  hundred  years  ago." 

A  remarkable  thing  about  the  sermons  of  Chrysos- 
tom  is  their  undecayed,  enduring  vitality.  They  are 
not  dry  and  lifeless  like  the  specimens  of  an  her- 
barium, to  which  old  sermons  are  often  compared, 
and  justly,  for  their  lack  of  interest  to  a  present-day 
reader.  "His  words,"  says  Dr.  Storrs,  "were 
living  things;  they  are  so  still.  There  is  a  marvel- 
ous modernness  in  his  sermons.  No  man  can  read 
them  after  so  many  ages  without  feeling  that  he 
who  shot  these  shafts  lived  by  the  faith  of  the  Son 
of  God." 

The  good  such  a  ministry  wrought  in  ten  years 
there  in  Antioch  cannot  be  estimated.  It  was 
simply  immense,  and  stamped  with  God's  manifest 
approval.  Chrysostom  became  more  and  more 
the  pride  of  the  city  as  the  fame  of  his  eloquence 
extended  abroad.  In  397  A.  D.  at  the  death  of 
Nectarius,  the  Archbishop  of  Constantinople,  he 
was  appointed  his  successor.  The  Eunuch,  Eutro- 
pius,  the  prime-minister  of  Arcadius,  had  heard  him 
in  Antioch  some  years  before,  and  believing  that  he 
would  add  luster  to  the  eastern  capital  and  be  found 
subservient  to  his  wishes,  he  persuaded  the  emperor 

59  V    . 


NINE   GREAT  PREACHERS  i 

to  place  him  in  that  high  ecclesiastical  position.; 
The  place  was  not  of  Chrysostom's  seeking;  indeed; 
had  it  been  openly  offered  him,  he  would  have  shrunk; 
from  the  responsible  charge,  as  in  his  young  man-; 
hood  he  had  shrunk  from  and  evaded  being  made  ai 
bishop.  But  the  option  now  was  not  given  him,' 
any  more  than  it  had  been  given  in  those  early 
years  to  his  friend  Basil.  Knowing  that  the  people 
of  Antioch  would  not  willingly  give  up  their  favorite 
preacher,  Eutropius  got  him  away  by  stratagem. 
He  sent  word  to  Asterius,  the  imperial  governor  of 
Antioch,  to  invite  Chrysostom  to  visit  a  martyr's 
shrine  with  him  just  outside  the  city.  Well  pleased 
to  make  the  pious  pilgrimage  the  preacher  unwit- 
tingly accepted  the  invitation.  At  the  holy  shrine 
he  was  seized  by  imperial  officers  and  in  spite  of  his 
remonstrances  hurried  off  by  an  escort  of  soldiers 
to  Constantinople,  and  forcibly  ordained  to  the 
Patriarchate  of  the  Eastern  Church.  ' 

The  dignity  to  which  he  was  thus  summoned 
and  in  which  he  was  installed  by  envious  ecclesias- 
tics was  not  a  bed  of  roses.  It  was,  in  fact,  a  bed  of 
thorns  to  him.  He  was  too  little  of  a  courtier  and 
too  much  of  a  saint  to  find  it  otherwise.  The  view 
of  Eutropius  and  of  the  Emperor  of  the  nature  and 
obligations  of  the  sacred  office  was  much  different 
from  that  of  Chrysostom.  They  looked  upon  it  as 
an  ecclesiastical  appendage  to  the  court,  and  be- 
lieved that  the  archbishop  should  be  servile  and 
pliant  to  the  behests  of  the  court.  He,  on  the  other 
hand,  held  that  Christ  alone  was  his  Master;  that  he 
should  aim  chiefly  to  please  him;  that  it  was  in- 

60 


CHRYSOSTOM 

umbent  upon  him  as  a  faithful  shepherd  to  watch 
ver  the  spiritual  welfare  of  the  flock  committed  to 
is  care;  to  rebuke  sin  and  vice  wherever  found;  to 
e  uncompromising  in  his  assertion  of  the  para- 
lount  claims  and  obligations  of  religion  upon  all 
like,  the  high  and  low,  rich  and  poor,  those  who 
welt  in  palaces  as  well  as  those  who  lived  in  the 
leanest  hovels. 

So  sharply  differing,  it  was  inevitable  that  ere 
)ng  he  should  come  into  collision  with  the  court 
ad  its  pampered  minions.  At  first,  however, 
^ery thing  seemed  fair  and  lovely.  The  eloquence 
lat  had  charmed  his  hearers  in  Antioch  was  greeted 
ith  admiration  and  applause  in  Constantinople, 
ad  for  a  short  time  he  enjoyed  the  highest  minis- 
jrial  success  and  popularity.  The  Emperor  and  the 
tnpress  performed  with  zeal  the  religious  observ- 
nces  he  recommended.  At  his  suggestion  a  pil- 
rimage  on  foot  was  made  by  night  to  the  shrine  of  a 
lartyr  located  a  considerable  distance  from  the  city, 
'hose  who  engaged  in  it  formed  a  vast  torch-light 
rocession,  led  by  the  archbishop  and  the  Empress 
nd  her  court.  Chrysostom  was  in  raptures  at  such 
ocile  and  exemplary  piety,  and  expressed  his  satis- 
iction  in  a  laudatory  discourse  when  they  reached 
lie  shrine  at  dawn  of  day. 

"Of  what  shall  I  most  discourse?"  he  exclaimed. 
The  virtue  of  the  martyrs,  the  alacrity  of  the  city, 
be  zeal  of  the  Empress,  the  concourse  of  the  nobles, 
tie  worsting  of  the  devils?  Women  more  delicate 
ban  wax,  leaving  their  comfortable  homes,  emulated 
be  stoutest  men  in  the  eagerness  with  which  they 

61 


NINE  GREAT  PREACHERS 

made  this  long  pilgrimage  on  foot.  Nobles,  leaving 
their  chariots,  their  lictors,  their  attendants,  mingled 
in  the  common  crowd.  And  she,  who  wears  the 
diadem  and  is  arrayed  in  purple,  has  not  consented 
along  the  whole  route  to  be  separated  from  the  rest. 
The  procession  moved  along  like  a  stream  of  fire,  or 
a  continuous  golden  chain;  the  moon  shone  down 
upon  the  crowd  of  the  faithful,  and  in  the  midst  was 
the  Empress,  more  brilliant  than  the  moon  itself, 
for  what  was  the  moon  compared  to  a  soul  adorned 
with  such  faith  .f^" 

Only  for  a  little  while  did  this  mutual  admiration 
continue.  As  Chrysostom  became  accustomed  to 
his  new  position  and  more  familiar  with  the  faults 
and  sins  of  those  to  whom  he  ministered,  and  as  he 
strove  to  correct  them  by  rebukes  and  remon- 
strances, then  coolness  and  estrangement,  and  at 
last  bitter  enmity  arose.  He  found  many  of  the 
clergy  to  be  worldly,  and  indulging  in  practices  that 
dishonored  religion.  Attempting  to  reform  them, 
he  incurred  their  hate  and  the  hate  of  those  who 
wanted  religious  guides  that  would  not  reprove 
them  for  sin. 

Many  Christians  were  passionately  fond  of  the 
circus  and  the  theatre,  and  indulged  their  liking  for 
them  to  the  neglect  of  religion,  the  loss  of  all 
spirituality  and  the  leading  astray  of  others.  On 
Good  Friday,  near  the  end  of  the  first  year  of  Chrys- 
ostom's  episcopate,  they  forsook  the  church  and 
its  solemn  service  for  those  places  of  amusement. 
On  the  next  Sunday,  having  remarked  upon  the 
impiety  of  such  conduct,  he  thus  called  to  account 

62 


CHRYSOSTOM 

each  guilty  offender:  "What  defence  will  you  be 
able  to  make  when  you  have  to  render  an  account 
of  that  day's  work?  For  thee  the  sun  rose,  the 
moon  lit  up  the  night,  choirs  of  stars  spangled  the 
sky;  for  thee  the  winds  blew  and  rivers  ran,  seeds 
germinated,  plants  grew,  and  the  whole  course  of 
nature  kept  in  proper  order;  but  thou,  when  crea- 
tion is  ministering  to  thy  needs,  thou  fulfillest  the 
pleasure  of  the  devil.  Say  not  that  few  have 
wandered  from  the  fold.  Though  it  be  only  one, 
yet  it  is  a  soul  for  which  this  visible  world  was  created, 
for  which  laws  and  statutes  and  the  diverse  opera- 
tions of  God  have  been  put  in  motion,  yea,  for  whose 
sake  God  spared  not  His  only  Son.  Therefore  I 
loudly  declare  that  if  anyone  after  this  admonition 
shall  desert  the  fold  for  the  pestilent  vice  of  the 
theatre,  I  will  not  administer  to  him  the  holy  mys- 
teries or  allow  him  to  touch  the  holy  table,  but  will 
expell  him  as  shepherds  drive  out  the  diseased  sheep 
from  the  fold,  lest  they  should  contaminate  the  rest." 
Such  severity  toward  sin  and  vice  and  worldly 
amusements  aroused  hate  and  opposition.  He 
added  to  these  the  dislike  of  the  court  by  his  own 
austerity.  His  predecessor,  Nectarius,  used  to  fre- 
quent the  court,  and  to  give  grand  entertainments 
to  the  nobles  and  high  officers,  and  indulged  him- 
self in  luxurious  habits  of  living.  Chrysostom, 
always  simple  and  abstemious  in  his  habits,  usually 
ate  in  solitude,  and  refused  to  set  foot  at  court  except 
upon  business  of  the  Church.  He  would  not  flatter 
the  great  by  entertaining  them,  nor  would  he  adorn 
their  feasts.     Thus  he  gradually  fell  out  with  the 

63 


\y 


NINE  GREAT  PREACHERS 

great  court  officers,  with  the  Empress  Eudoxia, 
and  with  the  worldly  clergy,  though  he  warmly 
attached  to  himself  the  common  people,  and  the 
saintly  men  and  women  of  every  class. 

Eutropius,  the  prime  minister,  vexed  at  not 
finding  him  subservient  to  his  wishes,  showed  his 
resentment  by  depriving  St.  Sophia  of  its  ancient 
right  of  asylum.  But  by  the  irony  of  fate,  he  him- 
self was  the  first  to  need  that  asylum,  and  Chrysos- 
tom  generously  asserted  and  obtained  it  for  him, 
when  disgraced  and  thrown  from  power  because  of 
the  enmity  of  Eudoxia.  Chrysostom,  ruled  by 
the  instinct  of  a  preacher,  could  not  refrain  from 
improving  the  occasion  to  impress  an  important 
lesson.  On  the  day  following  the  minister's  downfall, 
which  was  Sunday,  when  the  great  church  of  St. 
Sophia  was  thronged  with  an  eager,  expectant  con- 
gregation, suddenly  the  curtain  that  separated  the 
nave  from  the  chancel,  was  partly  drawn  aside  and 
disclosed  to  the  view  of  the  multitude  the  cowering 
form  of  the  wretched  Eutropius  clinging  to  one  of 
the  columns  which  supported  the  holy  table.  Then 
Chrysostom  pointing  to  him  as  a  visible  example  of 
fallen  grandeur  exclaimed:  "Where  now  are  the 
pomp  and  circumstance  of  yonder  man's  office  .^^ 
Where  his  torch-light  festivities  .f^  Where  the  ap- 
plause which  once  greeted  him.f^  W^here  the  stir 
that  attended  his  approach  in  the  streets,  the 
flattering  compliments  paid  him  in  the  amphi- 
theatre? They  are  gone,  all  gone!  One  rude  blast 
has  shattered  all  the  leaves,  and  shows  us  the  tree 
stripped  quite  bare  and  shaken  to  its  very  roots. 

64 


CHRYSOSTOM 

These  things  were  but  as  shadows  which  flitted  away, 
as  bubbles  which  burst,  as  cobwebs  which  rent. 
Therefore  we  chant  this  heavenly  strain:  'Vanity 
of  vanities,  all  is  vanity.'  For  these  are  words 
which  should  be  inscribed  on  our  walls  and  on  our 
garments,  in  the  market  place,  by  the  wayside,  on 
our  doors,  above  all  in  the  conscience  and  engraved 
upon  the  mind  of  everyone."  As  showing  the  pro- 
tecting power  of  the  Church  and  illustrating  the 
wholesome  truths  of  religion,  the  suppliant  was  an 
ornament  to  the  altar.  The  spectacle  of  one  lately 
at  the  pinnacle  of  power  now  crouching  with  fear 
like  a  hare  or  a  frog,  chained  to  yonder  pillar  not 
by  fetters  but  by  fright,  would  repress  arrogance, 
and  subdue  pride,  and  teach  them  the  truth  of  the 
Scripture:  "All  flesh  is  grass,  and  all  the  glory  of 
man  as  the  flower  of  grass." 

The  fall  of  Eutropius  but  increased  the  pride  of 
Eudoxia.  She  ruled  the  weak-minded  emperor, 
and  through  him  the  affairs  of  state.  But  she  could 
not  rule  Chrysostom,  nor  make  him  connive  at  her 
sins.  If  she  committed  an  offense  against  morals 
and  religion,  he  censured  her  like  any  other  offender. 
At  this  she  grew  first  cool,  and  then  furious  at  the 
preacher.  She  was  to  Chrysostom  what  Jezebel 
was  to  Elijah,  or  Herodias  to  John  the  Baptist,  and 
both  of  these  epithets  he  is  said  (but  without  good 
proof)  to  have  bestowed  upon  her.  Through  her 
influence  his  path  was  more  and  more  thorny.  His 
enemies,  having  her  countenance,  plotted  his  de- 
struction. Theophilus,  Archbishop  of  Alexandria, 
took  the  lead,  having  associated  with  him  a  disrep- 

65 


NINE   GREAT  PREACHERS 

utable  crowd  of  bishops  and  ecclesiastics  whom 
Chrysostom  had  mortally  offended  by  his  rebukes 
and  discipline  for  their  corrupt  practices.  They 
gathered  in  a  synod,  in  a  suburb  of  Chalcidon,  at  a 
place  called  "The  Oak,"  and  there  this  "  Synod  of  the 
Oak"  framed  charges  against  Chrysostom  and  sum- 
moned him  to  appear  before  them  and  make  answer 
to  the  indictment.  The  charges  were  false,  or  ab- 
surd, but  as  there  was  no  probability  of  his  having 
a  fair  trial  before  such  a  tribunal,  Chrysostom 
refused  to  appear  before  them  and  was  condemned 
for  contumacy.  The  synod  decreed  that  he  should 
be  deposed  from  his  office  and  called  upon  the  Em- 
peror to  execute  the  decree.  He,  ruled  by  Eudoxia, 
performed  their  bidding,  and  Chrysostom  was  se- 
cretly arrested  and  hurried  away  into  exile. 

When  the  people  of  the  city  learned  of  the  ban- 
ishment of  their  beloved  preacher,  great  was  their 
indignation  and  loud  their  cry  for  his  return.  "Bet- 
ter that  the  sun  cease  to  shine,"  they  said,  "than 
that  our  Chrysostom's  mouth  should  be  stopped." 
And  they  crowded  the  approaches  to  the  imperial 
palace  as  they  pressed  their  demand.  Heaven 
itself  seemed  to  second  the  demand.  An  earth- 
quake occurred  which  shook  the  city,  and  violently 
rocked  the  very  bed  on  which  the  Empress  slept. 
Terrified  at  what  she  thought  a  manifestation  of 
the  wrath  of  heaven  she  added  her  voice  to  that  of 
the  people  for  Chrysostom's  recall,  and  even  wrote 
a  letter  entreating  his  return.  "I  remember  the 
baptism  of  my  children  by  thy  hands,"  she  said. 
"God  whom  I  serve  is  witness  of  my  tears."     Re- 

66 


CHRYSOSTOM 

called  in  haste,  he  returned  to  Constantinople  in 
triumph  amid  the  joyous  acclamations  of  the  people. 

But  the  peace  made  with  him  by  the  Empress 
proved  to  be  only  a  hollow  truce.  In  her  heart 
she  hated  him  still,  and  was  ready  to  break  with  him 
at  the  first  opportunity.  As  there  can  be  no  con- 
cord betwixt  Christ  and  Belial,  it  inevitably  came 
very  soon.  The  occasion  was  the  erection  of  a 
statue  of  the  Empress  before  the  Church  of  St. 
Sophia,  inaugurated  with  heathenish  ceremony, 
which  Chrysostom  condemned.  Fierce  was  her 
resentment  when  the  report  of  his  censure  was 
brought  to  her,  and  from  that  time  she  relentlessly 
pursued  him  until  his  death.  He  was  exiled  again 
after  a  few  months  to  Cucusus,  a  lonely  mountain 
town  on  the  borders  of  Cilicia.  Hearing  that  he  was 
cheered  there  by  visits,  letters,  and  gifts  from  his 
faithful  friends,  the  implacable  Empress  had  him 
removed  thence  b}^  brutal  soldiers  to  Pityus  on  the 
Caucasus,  the  most  dreary  spot  in  the  empire.  The 
journey  with  its  hardships  and  privations  was  too 
much  for  his  feeble  body;  he  died  on  the  way, 
September  14,  407,  in  his  sixtieth  year,  his  last 
words  being:  "Glory  to  God  for  all  things,"  ex- 
pressive of  the  sweetness  of  his  spirit  and  the  resig- 
nation with  which  he  bore  his  sufferings. 

Thirty  years  after  his  death,  the  relics  of  Chrysos- 
tom were  brought  back  with  great  pomp  to  Constan- 
tinople at  the  command  of  the  then  reigning  Em- 
peror, Theodosius  H,  the  son  of  Eudoxia.  When 
they  were  deposited  in  the  church  appointed  to 
receive   them,  the   Emperor  kneeling  humbly   and 

67 


NINE  GREAT  PREACHERS 

reverently  above  the  reliquary,  implored  forgive- 
ness for  the  injuries  which  his  parents  had  done  to 
the  saint  whose  ashes  it  held.  That  kneeling 
Emperor  typifies  well  the  attitude  of  the  Christian 
world  toward  the  illustrious  saint.  He  is  numbered 
among  the  four  great  Fathers  of  the  Christian 
Church  by  both  the  Greek  and  the  Roman  branches 
of  it;  he  is  extolled  for  the  impartial  purity  and  in- 
corruptible integrity  of  his  episcopal  rule  as  well  as 
for  his  surpassing  eloquence,  and  spoken  of  generally 
with  great  respect  by  those  held  in  highest  honor. 
Great  historians,  like  Gibbon  and  Milman,  and  great 
scholars  and  preachers,  like  Isaac  Barrow,  J.  H.  New- 
man and  R.  S.  Storrs  have  been  enthusiastic  students 
of  his  works  and  admirers  of  his  character. 

There  are  few  men  in  the  history  of  the  world 
whose  names  are  more  deservedly  illustrious.  To 
be  forever  a  good  example  of  faithfulness  to  duty 
and  of  noble  Christian  character,  to  continue 
through  many  centuries  to  be  an  instructor  and 
inspirer  of  mankind  by  one's  imperishable  utterances, 
to  have  them  the  delight  and  nourishing  food  of 
successive  generations  of  scholars  and  preachers — 
there  are  few  achievements  of  men  equal  to  this. 
In  the  firmament  of  the  past  on  which  the  names  of 
men  of  all  degrees  of  greatness  and  glory  are  em- 
blazoned, this  man  appears,  therefore,  as  a  star  of 
the  first  magnitude,  whose  light  neither  the  gathering 
mists  of  time  nor  the  darkness  of  oblivion,  which 
soon  or  late  hides  from  human  gaze  most  of  those 
stars  in  the  sky,  can  dim  or  quench.  It  remains  a 
splendid  beneficent  beacon  light  for  all  time. 

68 


Ill 

^BERNARD   OF  CLAIRVAUX 


Ill 

BERNARD  OF  CLAIRVAUX 

Among  the  great  preachers  whose  names  shed 
splendor  upon  the  Christian  faith,  Bernard  of 
Clair vaux  holds  a  very  high  place.  No  name 
stood  higher  in  the  Christian  world  in  the  age  in 
which  he  appeared,  and  since  his  death  his  fame 
has  lingered  down  to  the  present  time  like  a  beauti- 
ful afterglow  from  his  immense  reputation  and 
influence  with  his  contemporaries.  This  long 
lingering  splendor  is  a  sure  proof  of  his  real  great- 
ness. Only  the  true  giants  among  men,  as  well 
as  the  giants  among  mountains,  retain  so  long  the 
halo  of  glory  that  attracts  the  wondering  gaze  of 
the  world.  In  influence  he  ranks  next  to  Augustine 
in  the  history  of  Latin  Christianity,  whose  scholars 
and  ecclesiastics  affectionately  speak  of  him  as 
"the  last  of  the  Fathers." 

Born  in  1091,  in  the  last  decade  of  the  11th 
century,  his  childhood  was  cradled  and  largely 
passed  amid  the  intense  excitement  and  religious 
enthusiasm  created  by  the  first  crusade,  in  which 
his  father,  Tescelin,  a  noble  knight  and  vassal  of 
the  great  Duke  of  Burgundy,  was  engaged,  and 
lost  his  life.  His  mother,  Aletta  or  Ale  the,  a  woman 
of  rare  beauty  of  character  and  of  deep  piety,  con- 
secrated him  on  his  birthday  with  passionate    de- 

71 


NINE   GREAT  PREACHERS 

votion  to  a  religious  life.  This  consecration  held 
him  fast  in  spite  of  the  strong  allurements  of  arms 
in  that  warlike  age,  or  of  study,  to  the  charm  of 
which  he  was  deeply  sensible. 

From  both  parents  Bernard  inherited  rare  quali- 
ties. From  his  father,  Tescelin,  masculine  courage, 
energy  and  a  martial  spirit,  united  with  a  sobriety 
of  judgment  and  magnanimity  of  mind  that  fitted 
him  for  leadership;  from  his  mother,  Aletta, — be- 
sides elegance  of  person,  beauty  of  features,  a  radi- 
ant countenance  and  gracious  manners, — a  love  of 
nature  that  amounted  to  a  passion,  an  affectionate, 
tender,  spirit  and  ardent  religious  sensibilities. 
"To  her  he  owed  it,  under  God,"  says  Dr.  Storrs, 
"that  while  strong  with  the  strongest,  he  was  im- 
passioned and  fond  as  the  most  ardent  woman,  and 
it  was  her  spirit  in  him  which  sighed  and  sorrowed, 
or  rose  to  summits  of  Christian  triumph."  (R.  S. 
Storrs,  D.D.,  "Bernard  of  Clairvaux.") 

He  was  as  happy  in  his  place  of  birth  in  the  neigh- 
borhood of  Dijon,  the  capital  city  of  Burgundy,  as 
in  his  parentage.  "The  skies  of  Burgundy,"  says 
the  historian,  "judging  from  the  illustrious  peo- 
ple it  has  produced,  have  for  centuries  ripened 
wits  as  well  as  wines."  Besides  Bernard  and  the 
illustrious  warriors  and  churchmen  of  his  own  and 
earlier  times  that  shed  their  luster  upon  it,  there 
is  a  splendid  galaxy  of  names  belonging  to  more 
recent  epochs.  Bossuet  was  born  there,  and  Buffon, 
and  Madam  de  Sevigne  and  Lamartine;  and  there 
originated  the  order  of  the  Golden  Fleece,  insti- 
tuted three  centuries  after  Bernard   for  the  glory 

72 


BERNARD  OF  CLAIRVAUX 

of  Knighthood  and  of  the  Church,  representing 
in  name  at  least,  the  wealth  and  the  warmth  of  the 
prosperous  province. 

In  his  father's  Castle  of  Fontaines,  the  third  son 
in  a  family  of  six  sons  and  a  daughter,  Bernard 
grew  up  amid  the  choicest  influences  and  the  highest 
social  advantages  that  the  times  could  give.  While 
he  was  yet  a  child  his  father  was  taken  from  him, 
and  the  care  and  responsibility  of  his  training 
devolved  on  his  mother.  She  deeply  impressed 
the  stamp  of  her  own  spiritual  character  upon  him. 
"If  ever  a  mother's  wish  and  prayer  and  Christian 
counsel  determined  the  character  and  career  of  a 
son,"  says  Dr.  Storrs,  *' those  of  the  mother  of 
Bernard  determined  his.  After  her  death,  which 
occurred  while  he  was  still  a  youth,  her  image  re- 
mained vividly  with  him.  He  remembered  her 
words  and  meditated  affectionately  on  her  plans 
for  himself."  For  a  little  time,  as  he  was  just  enter- 
ing manhood,  he  seemed  to  turn  away  from  those 
plans  and  to  be  drawn  by  the  example  of  two  older 
brothers  to  a  martial  career,  upon  which  they  had 
entered.  The  martial  spirit,  which  he  had  inherited 
from  his  father,  and  the  spirit  of  the  times  impelled 
him  that  way.  But  his  mother's  memory  brought 
him  back  to  the  religious  life  to  which  she  had  dedi- 
cated him.  The  story  of  his  conversion  is  interesting : 
"He  was  riding  toward  the  camp  of  the  Duke  of 
Burgundy,  to  join  his  brothers  who  were  already 
there,  when  the  image  of  his  mother,  disappointed 
and  reproving,  took  possession  of  his  mind.  He 
retired  to  a  church  by  the  roadside  to  pray,  and 

73 


NINE   GREAT  PREACHERS 

from  that  hour  his  course  was  determined  and  his 
purpose  unchangeable  to  lead  a  religious  life." 

In  that  age,  a  religious  life  meant  retirement 
from  the  world  to  the  seclusion  and  ascetic  practices, 
the  fastings,  the  vigils  and  strict  regulations  of  a 
monastery.  To  this  Bernard  resolved  to  give  him- 
self. He  purposed,  however,  not  to  go  alone,  and 
with  sublime  courage  he  resolved  to  win  to  the 
same  religious  life  he  had  embraced  those  two  elder 
brothers  whose  example  had  for  a  while  turned  his 
heart  away  from  it  toward  a  military  career.  This 
was  not  an  easy  thing  to  do.  His  oldest  brother, 
Guido,  was  already  married  and  the  father  of  chil- 
dren; his  next  brother,  Gerard,  was  a  daring  soldier, 
with  a  martial  spirit  and  soaring  ambitions,  and 
already  in  high  repute  for  wisdom  and  bravery  in 
action.  But  Bernard  was  one  whom  great  diffi- 
culties only  stimulated  to  greater  effort,  and  the 
heavenly  fire  which  had  subdued  his  heart  to  peni- 
tence and  high  resolve  had  touched  his  lips  like- 
wise with  overpowering  eloquence.  His  brothers, 
his  uncle,  and  more  than  twenty  others  besides, 
were  induced  by  his  eloquence  to  join  him  in  his 
purpose  to  forsake  the  world.  It  is  said  that 
"Mothers  hid  their  sons,  wives  their  husbands, 
maidens  their  lovers,  and  companions  their  friends, 
lest  they  should  be  drawn  away  by  him." 

Leading  such  a  company  of  men,  most  of  them 
from  influential  families,  Bernard  and  his  com- 
panions would  have  found  a  welcome  at  almost 
any  monastery  in  the  land.  He  might  have  gone 
to  the  greatest  of  Burgundian  abbeys,  the  rich  and 

74 


BERNARD  OF  CLAIRVAUX 

famous  abbey  of  Clugni,  where  life  was  easy  and 
the  religious  rule  then  far  from  strict.  But  he  chose 
to  go  to  Citeaux,  the  smallest,  poorest  and  strictest 
of  them  all,  at  that  time  presided  over  by  an  Eng- 
lishman, Stephen  Harding,  whose  sanctity  all  men 
respected,  but  whose  austere  rule  and  discipline 
most  shrank  from,  so  that  his  monastery,  recently 
founded,  was  very  small  and  in  a  languishing  con- 
dition. The  strict  discipline  and  poverty,  which 
had  repelled  others,  was  an  attraction  to  Bernard 
and  his  companions,  whom  he  had  inspired  with 
his  own  enthusiasm  and  devotion.  He  rejoiced 
to  endure  the  hardest  things  for  the  love  of  Christ. 
The  greatest  self -mortification  delighted  him.  He 
endeavored  by  means  of  it  completely  to  subdue 
all  bodily  appetities  and  passions,  so  that,  delivered 
from  their  clamor  or  control,  he  might  easily  dwell 
in  an  atmosphere  of  religious  meditation  and  spirit- 
ual rapture.  He  took  food,  not  to  nourish  life  or 
derive  from  it  strength,  but  to  postpone  death  and 
keep  himself  from  fainting.  It  was  usually  only 
a  bit  of  bread  moistened  with  warm  water  with 
no  delicacy  to  please  the  palate.  He  regarded  sleep 
as  almost  an  utter  loss  of  time,  during  which  one 
was  but  as  a  dead  man.  As  the  delicacy  and  weak- 
ness of  his  body  forbade  his  undertaking  heavy 
tasks  and  hard  labor,  he  compensated  for  that  by 
assuming  the  most  menial  offices,  like  that  of  wash- 
ing dishes  and  greasing  the  shoes  of  the  brethren.  ' 
The  coming  of  Bernard  and  his  company  to 
Citeaux  resulted  in  such  an  increase  of  its  prosperity 
and  numbers,  that  it  could  not  accommodate  the 

75 


NINE  GREAT  PREACHERS 

crowd  that  flocked  to  it.  It  was  obliged  to  do  what 
a  beehive  does  with  its  swarming  inhabitants — 
send  out  colonies  to  form  other  hives.  In  less  than 
three  years  it  sent  out  three  colonies;  Bernard 
was  chosen  the  leader  of  the  third.  A  band 
of  twelve,  representing  the  twelve  apostles,  with 
their  young  abbot,  then  twenty -four  years  old,  rep- 
resenting Christ,  bearing  a  cross  and  leading  in 
a  solemn  chant,  they  marched  forth  to  establish 
for  themselves  another  home  in  the  valley  of  Clair- 
vaux,  one  hundred  miles  distant.  It  was  at  the 
time  a  wild  and  desolate  place  which  formerly  had 
borne  the  name  of  "The  Valley  of  Wormwood." 
The  name  was  typical  of  the  experiences  they  en- 
countered. They  suffered  the  bitterness  of  hunger, 
of  cold,  of  extreme  privation,  ere  they  became  es- 
tablished. More  than  once  they  became  discour- 
aged, and  would  have  given  up  their  enterprise 
but  for  the  unfaltering  faith  and  indomitable  per- 
severance of  Bernard.  He  was  their  example  and 
their  inspiration. 

Salt  at  one  time  failing  them,  he  sent  one  of  the 
brethren  to  a  neighboring  village  for  a  fresh  supply, 
but  without  money  to  pay  for  it.  The  monk  demur- 
ring, in  the  belief  that  if  he  went  empty  handed 
he  would  return  in  like  manner,  Bernard  said: 
"Be  not  afraid;  He  who  has  the  treasure  will  be 
with  thee  and  will  supply  the  things  for  which  I 
send."  When  the  monk  returned  with  more  than 
he  had  gone  for,  the  abbot  said  to  him:  "I  tell  thee, 
my  son,  that  nothing  is  so  necessary  to  a  Christian 
man  as  faith.    Have  faith,  and  it  will  be  well  with 

76 


BERNARD  OF  CLAIRVAUX 

thee  all  the  days  of  thy  life."  At  another  time 
when  they  were  brought  almost  to  the  verge  of 
despair  on  account  of  their  destitution  and  began 
to  talk  of  returning  to  Citeaux,  "where  at  least 
the  means  of  maintaining  life  could  be  commanded, 
Bernard  kneeled  and  prayed  till  he  felt  that  a  voice 
from  heaven  had  answered  him."  To  their  ques- 
tion, what  he  had  prayed  for,  he  simply  answered: 
"Remain  as  you  are,  and  you  will  know";  and 
shortly  relief  came  to  them  from  three  different 
sources.  After  a  period  of  hard  struggle,  filled  with 
such  incidents,  whose  effect  was  to  inspire  them 
with  more  complete  confidence  and  reverence  for 
their  leader  as  one  peculiarly  favored  of  heaven, 
they  overcame  all  obstacles  and  achieved  a  marvel- 
ous success. 

That  wild  and  desolate  valley  became  through 
their  labors  a  paradise  of  beauty,  fertility  and 
plenty,  well  deserving  its  name  of  Clairvaux,  or 
"bright  valley."  Formed  by  two  lines  of  con- 
verging hills  opening  toward  the  east  and  coming 
together  at  the  west,  where  the  monastery  stood, 
the  valley  was  bright  with  sunshine  in  the  morning 
and  with  the  glory  of  the  sunset  reflected  from  its 
hills  long  after  the  monastery  lay  in  the  shadows 
that  fell  upon  it  in  the  late  afternoon.  It  was  bright 
in  spring  with  blossoming  orchards  and  smiling 
gardens;  and  in  autumn  with  the  golden  fruit  and 
the  ripening  harvest  that  the  industry  of  the  brother- 
hood had  created  out  of  the  wilderness  of  forest 
and  marsh  land  which  they  found  there  at  their 
coming.     In  time,   the    original    twelve    multiplied 

77 


NINE  GREAT  PREACHERS 

by  accessions  as  the  parent  institute  of  Citeaux 
had  done,  so  that  it  was  obliged  in  turn  to  send 
out  colonies.  A  hundred  and  sixty  of  these  went 
from  it  in  Bernard's  own  lifetime,  one  of  which 
founded  the  celebrated  "Fountains'  Abbey,"  in 
England,  whose  beautiful  ruins  as  seen  today  form 
one  of  the  notable  objects  of  interest  to  American 
travelers  in  the  mother  country.  But  wherever  they 
went  and  however  beautiful  the  new  homes  they 
established,  these  colonists  reluctantly  left  the  valley 
of  Clairvaux  and  the  monastery  where  the  presence 
and  rule  of  Bernard  were  a  constant  benediction, 
and  they  incessantly  longed  to  return  thither.  In 
time  it  was  greatly  enlarged  to  accommodate  those 
who  entreated  to  stay,  so  that  it  contained  within 
it  at  the  time  of  his  death  seven  hundred  monks. 
Here  at  Clairvaux,  Bernard  spent  the  most  of  his 
life,  nearly  forty  years,  with  those  occasional  ab- 
sences which  the  service  of  the  Church  or  of  the 
State  required. 

The  Monastic  System 

It  is  proper  that,  at  this  point,  we  should  dwell 
awhile  upon  that  remarkable  institution  of  monas- 
ticism,  with  which  Bernard  stands  associated. 
We  should  make  a  great  mistake,  if,  misled  by  our 
prejudices  and  Protestant  training,  we  should  pass 
a  sweeping  condemnation  upon  it  as  though  based 
solely  upon  religious  infatuation,  and  fraught  only 
with  mischief  to  mankind.  Dr.  Storrs  says  truly, 
that  "No  institution  exists  for  centuries  and  con- 

78 


BERNARD  OF  CLAIRVAUX 

tinues  to  attract  the  reverent  regard  of  many  of 
the  best  and  most  cultured  of  the  time,  which  has 
not  a  foundation  in  wide  and  wholesome  human 
tendencies  or  which  does  not  minister,  more  or 
less  successfully,  to  recognized  moral  needs  of  man- 
kind." This  is  true,  we  think,  of  that  monastic 
life  so  passionately  embraced  by  Bernard,  and  which 
as  exemplified  in  him  must  be  confessed  to  have 
had  an  attractive  charm,  and  produced  a  whole- 
some effect.  Its  essential  idea  and  purpose  was 
a  life  of  retirement  and  seclusion  from  the  world 
for  the  sake  of  religious  meditation,  self-collection 
and  the  formation  and  recovery  of  those  ideals  of 
character  and  conduct  that  are  most  worthy  and 
fit  to  regulate  the  soul.  So  defined,  it  may  be  said 
that  the  germs  of  monasticism  are  clearly  discernible 
in  the  Bible.  We  find  them  in  the  lives  of  the 
ancient  prophets,  Moses  and  Elijah,  in  John  the 
Baptist,  even  in  Christ  and  his  Apostles. 

It  was  under  the  impulse  of  the  monastic  spirit, 
so  to  speak,  that  they  occasionally  withdrew  from 
the  noise  and  bustle  and  excitement  of  this  crowded, 
bewildering  worldly  life,  which  we  all  know  so  well, 
and  of  which  we  often  become  weary.  The  soli- 
tude of  the  desert,  of  mountain,  or  of  sea,  was  under 
such  circumstances  as  grateful  and  as  restful  to 
them  as  is  the  stillness  of  night  under  the  quiet 
stars  to  one  oppressed  with  "the  cares  that  infest 
the  day";  or  as  is  the  repose  of  sleep,  when  ex- 
hausted with  the  day's  toil.  In  this  view  of  the 
matter  we  may  affirm  that  monasticism  is  a  prod- 
uct of  man's  spiritual  wants   and  necessities,  that 

79 


NINE  GREAT  PREACHERS 

it  sprang  up  to  satisfy  cravings  and  impulses  of 
which  all  people  of  any  degree  of  spirituality  are 
at  times  conscious.  When  the  pressure  of  life  be- 
comes heavy  and  burdensome,  and  one  feels  his 
weakness  and  the  smallness  of  his  own  unaided  re- 
sources; when  one  is  confronted  by  great  and  per- 
plexing problems,  for  the  solution  of  which  he  has 
no  light,  then  it  is  natural  for  him  to  look  for  relief 
and  light  in  retirement  from  the  world  and  con- 
verse with  God.  The  words  of  Christ  to  his  dis- 
ciples: "Come  ye  apart  into  a  desert  place  and 
rest  awhile"  seem  suited  to  his  need,  and  the  saying 
of  the  prophet:  "My  people  shall  dwell  in  a  peace- 
able habitation  and  in  sure  dwellings  and  in  quiet 
resting  places,"  equivalent  to  a  divine  direction, 
obeying  which  he  may,  and  thus  only  may,  perhaps, 
attain  that  righteousness  "whose  work,"  according 
to  his  prophet,  "shall  be  peace  and  whose  effect, 
quietness  and  assurance  forever."  Thus  the 
troubled  and  harrassed  soul  is  prompted  to  seek  and 
often  finds  what  the  poet  extols  as  a  "gift  sub- 
lime" 

".     .     .     that  blessed  mood, 
In  which  the  burden  of  the  mystery, 
In  which  the  heavy  and  the  weary  weight 
Of  all  this  unintelligible  world 
Is  lightened." 

The  needs  of  nature  and  of  religion  demand  oc- 
casional indulgence  of  this  craving  for  retirement 
and  seclusion  from  the  world. 

It  is  a  necessity  for  all  deeper  and  most  fruitful 
souls.     "Man  must  retire  at  intervals  within  him- 

80 


BERNARD  OF  CLAIRVAUX 

self  in  reflection  and  silence,  to  do  the  best  things," 
says  one  of  the  greatest  of  our  American  preachers. 
The  examples  of  Christ  and  of  the  Apostle  Paul 
intimate  that  such  seclusion  is  especially  needful 
both  as  a  preparation  for  successful  work  in  the 
ministry  and  as  a  means  of  spiritual  invigoration 
amid  its  exhausting  labors.  All  the  great  preachers 
of  the  past  have  by  means  of  it  replenished  their 
stores  of  thought  and  been  girded  with  strength 
for  the  deliverance  of  their  messages.  Chrysostom, 
Augustine,  Savonarola,  Baxter,  Howe  and  Edwards 
thus  prepared  their  pinions  for  higher  flight.  And 
"in  chambers  of  scholars, "says  Dr.  Storrs,  "in 
how  many  schools  of  sacred  learning,  where  out- 
ward things  for  the  time  at  least  have  been  ex- 
cluded, and  no  echo  has  been  heard  of  the  furious 
and  mercenary  rush  of  society,  have  men  come  to 
the  loftiest  efforts  and  successes  of  intellectual  and 
spiritual  life.^^  There  philanthropies  and  missions 
have  been  born;  there  sublime  intuitions  of  truth 
have  given  new  import  to  the  Scriptures;  and  there 
immortality  has  become  to  the  soul  asserting  kin- 
ship with  God,  a  proximate  presence." 

The  religious  system  of  monasticism  was  con- 
trived so  as  to  promote  by  its  regulations  and  dis- 
cipline the  spiritual  life  of  those  submissive  to  it. 
Life  among  them  was  occupied  with  worship,  study, 
and  work,  and  for  the  pursuit  of  these  objects  they 
solemnly  vowed  to  observe  in  practice  the  virtues  of 
obedience,  chastity  and  poverty  or  self-denial.  The 
Cistercian  monasteries,  of  which  Clair vaux  was 
one,  represented,  as  we  have  intimated,  a  reform 

6  81 


NINE  GREAT  PREACHERS 

in  the  ancient  Benedictine  discipline,  which,  as  in 
the  case  of  the  famous  abbey  of  Clugni,  had  become 
lax  and  corrupt  through  their  acquisition  of  riches 
and  spiritual  declension.  The  monastery  of  Citeaux, 
which  Bernard  had  originally  joined  and  to  which 
his  coming  had  given  great  prosperity,  compelling 
it  to  colonize,  was  the  mother  of  this  new  order, 
and  Clairveaux  was  her  third  daughter. 

At  Clairveaux,  therefore,  monasticism  was  pre- 
sented in  its  best  form.  Let  us  try  to  imagine,  if 
possible,  the  sort  of  life  they  lived  there  during  the 
days  of  Bernard.  The  daily  services  of  religion 
were  seven  in  number,  in  accordance  with  the  ex- 
ample of  the  psalmist,  Ps.  119;  164,  "Seven  times 
a  day  do  I  praise  thee."  These  were  known  as 
"The    Canonical    Hours,"    and    were    as    follows: 

1.  Nocturnes,  two  o'clock  in  the  morning,  when 
it  was  believed  that   Christ  rose  from  the  dead; 

2.  Prime,  or  Matins,  six  o'clock  in  the  morning, 
when  it  was  believed  Christ's  resurrection  was  an- 
nounced to  the  women;  3.  Tierce,  nine  o'clock,  when 
Christ  was  condemned  and  scourged  by  Pilate; 
4.  Sext,  twelve  (noon),  when  Christ  was  crucified 
and  darkness  was  over  all  the  earth;  5.  Nones, 
three  o'clock  in  the  afternoon,  the  hour  of  public 
prayer  in  the  temple,  and  when  Christ  gave  up  the 
ghost;  6.  Vespers,  six  o'clock,  the  hour  of  evening 
sacrifice  in  the  temple,  and  when  Christ  was  taken 
down  from  the  cross;  7.  Compline,  or  "Even- 
Song,"  solemnly  sung  about  seven  o'clock,  when 
Christ's  agony  began  in  the  garden. 

Thomas  Fuller  after   giving   these   divisions,    or 

82 


BERNARD  OF  CLAIRVAUX 

"hours,"  of  their  religious  day,  adds  the  following 
comments.  In  regard  to  the  first :  "It  was  no  fault, 
for  the  greater  haste,  to  come  without  shoes,  or 
with  unwashen  hands  (provided  sprinkled  with 
holy  water)  to  this  night's  service.  And  I  find  no 
expression  to  the  contrary  but  that  they  might  go 
to  bed  again;  but  a  flat  prohibition  after  matins, 
when  to  return  to  bed  was  accounted  a  petty  apos- 
tasy." 

In  regard  to  the  last,  called  also  the  "Comple- 
tory,"  it  completed  the  duties  of  the  day.  This 
service  was  concluded  with  that  versicle  of  the 
psalmist:  "Set  a  watch,  O  Lord,  before  my  mouth 
and  keep  the  door  of  my  lips, "  Ps.  141 ;  3.  With  this 
was  connected  the  injunction  strictly  observed:  "Let 
none  speak  a  word  after  *  completory , '  but  hasten 
to  their  beds."  The  rule  was,  in  regard  to  these 
"hours":  "Let  all  at  the  signal  given  (the  tolling 
of  a  bell  in  England,  hence  called  the  "Ringing 
Island")  leave  off  their  work,  and  repair  presently 
to  prayers."  "This  canon  was  so  strict,"  says 
Fuller,  that  "writers  having  begun  to  frame  and 
flourish  a  text  letter  were  not  to  finish  it,  but  break 
off  in  the  middle  thereof." 

Of  another  rule,  that  "those  who  are  absent  in 
public  employment,  be  reputed  present  in  prayers": 
"There  was  a  particular  commemoration  made  of 
them,  and  they  by  name  were  recommended  to 
divine  protection."  Those  also  were  to  observe  the 
same  hours.  "Be  it  by  sea  or  land,  on  ship,  in  house 
or  field,  they  were  to  fall  down  on  their  knees,  and 
though  at  distance,  and  very  briefly,  yet  in  some 

83 


NINE   GREAT  PREACHERS 

sort  to  keep  time  and  tune  with  the  convent  in 
their  devotions."  (See  Fuller's  ''Church  History  of 
Britain,"  Book  6,  Sec.  2.) 

From  the  standard  work  of  Dr.  R.  S.  Storrs, 
"Bernard  of  Clairvaux,"  we  take  the  following  brief 
summary  of  the  life  pursued  at  Clairvaux  in  Ber- 
nard's day:  "The  rule  of  Benedict  was  strictly 
observed  in  it  during  the  lifetime  of  Bernard,  and 
as  long  as  his  influence  remained  dominant  there. 
According  to  this,  the  abbot,  though  elected  by 
the  monks,  afterwards  represented  among  them 
the  Divine  Master,  and  to  him  was  to  be  rendered 
respect,  veneration,  and  immediate  obedience. 
Among  things  insisted  on,  these  were  prominent: 
no  sensuality,  no  idle  or  jesting  words,  humility, 
patience  under  injuries,  contentment  with  meanest 
goods  or  employments,  constancy  in  religious  serv- 
ice, regularity  in  labor.  For  offences,  chastise- 
ment; for  the  incorrigible,  expulsion.  Of  course, 
no  personal  property  was  permitted.  Each  of  the 
monks  served  in  his  turn  in  the  kitchen,  or  at  the 
table.  Meals  were  to  be  eaten,  but  accompanied 
with  the  reading  of  Scripture.  ('This,'  says 
Fuller,  'was  St  Austin's  rule.  Ne  solae  fauces 
sumant  cihum,  sed  et  aures  percipiant  Dei  verhum.^) 
A  spiritual  lecture  was  to  be  given  each  night 
before  'compline';  after  'compline'  silence  resigned. 
In  summer,  work  was  required  from  'prime'  till 
ten  o'clock;  from  ten  to  twelve,  readings,  reflection, 
and  perhaps  rest;  after  'nones,'  labor  again  till 
even-song.  In  the  winter,  the  hours  differed  some- 
what, and  the  outdoor  work  was  limited  or  sus- 

84 


BERNARD  OF  CLAIRVAUX 

pended;  but  the  succession  of  work,  reading,  and 
prayer  continued."     (Lee.  IV.) 

It  must  be  confessed  that  the  system  and  hfe 
thus  described  was  adapted,  one  would  think,  to 
promote  a  vital  piety  and  good  conduct  in  those 
who  consecrated  themselves  to  it.  And  they  did 
this  among  the  Cistercians  in  the  time  of  Bernard 
and  for  generations  after.  The  statement  of  the 
writer  in  "The  Catholic  Encyclopedia"  concerning 
them  is  undeniable:  "Their  abbeys  during  their 
golden  age  (1134-1342)  were  so  many  sanctuaries 
of  the  most  fervent  prayer,  of  the  severest  discipline 
as  well  as  of  untiring  and  constant  labor." 

The  piety  thus  developed  and  nurtured  in  their 
inmates  was  not  their  only  fruit.  They  yielded 
other  benefits  to  mankind  of  inestimable  value,  of 
which  none  can  question  the  reality  and  importance, 
though  they  may  deny  and  scout  at  their  religious 
and  social  influence.  As  teachers  of  what,  for 
those  times,  was  scientific  agriculture;  as  drainers  of 
fens  and  swamps;  as  clearers  of  forests;  as  makers 
of  roads;  as  tillers  of  reclaimed  soil;  as  architects 
of  durable  and  even  stately  buildings;  as  exhibiting 
a  type  of  orderly  government  in  a  rude  and  chaotic 
age;  as  mitigating  the  ferocity  and  cruelties  of  war 
and  the  savage  spirit  it  engenders;  as  showing  the 
superiority  to  warlike  pursuits  of  peaceful  employ- 
xnents,  and  the  refining  influence  of  literature,  art 
and  Christian  charity;  as  students  and  transcribers 
of  both  sacred  and  classical  literature  in  their  Scrip- 
toria;  as  the  collectors  of  precious  libraries  connected 
with  their  monasteries;  as  the  teachers  and  founders 

85 


NINE  GREAT  PREACHERS 

of  schools,  they  have  won  the  everlasting  grati- 
tude of  mankind. 

Their  manifest  good  work  attracted  to  them  men 
of  the  highest  class  and  noblest  character.  "Princes 
and  kings,"  says  Dr.  Storrs,  "were  gladly  num- 
bered among  the  lay  brothers.  Some  of  them  fully 
entered  the  convents,  and  men  of  the  highest  rank 
and  repute  were  found  serving  faithfully  in  kitchen, 
or  mill,  cutting  faggots,  gathering  crops,  or  de- 
lighting to  drive  the  pigs  to  the  field." 

What  then  was  the  error  of  monasticism.^^ 

The  error  of  monasiicism  was  in  supposing  that  an 
occasional  want  of  the  soul  justified  a  permanent  sepa- 
ration and  seclusion  of  the  best  and  most  devout  people 
from  the  world  and  its  society  for  the  sake  of  religion. 
They  thus  converted  what  should  be  an  occasional 
spiritual  discipline  and  refreshment  into  a  constant 
self-indulgence,  which  so  used  became  at  length 
unhealthful  and  the  source  of  serious  ills. 

Let  us  not,  in  reprobating  the  mischief  that  arose 
and  brought  this  institution  into  widespread  dis- 
repute, be  blind  to  the  thing  perverted. 

Occasional  retirement  from  the  world  for  prayer, 
reflection  and  quiet,  undisturbed  study  of  God's 
truth,  that  one  may  enjoy  a  "Sabbath  of  the  Soul," 
and  have  a  clear  vision  of  this  truth,  is  essential  to 
our  highest  spiritual  welfare.  It  is  indispensable 
to  the  successful  minister.  In  the  still  "retreat" 
and  solitude  thus  obtained  one  gains  admission  to 
the  "audience  chamber  of  God,"  and  acquires  the 
moral  elevation,  the  deep  convictions  and  conse- 
quent moral  earnestness  that  make  him  eloquent 

86 


BERNARD  OF  CLAIRVAUX 

and  impressive  as  a  preacher.  "The  eloquent 
man,"  says  Emerson,  "is  not  merely  a  beautiful 
speaker,  but  one  who  is  inwardly  drunk  with  a  cer- 
tain belief.  This  terrible  earnestness  makes  good 
the  ancient  superstition  of  the  hunter  that  the  bul- 
let will  hit  its  mark  which  is  first  dipped  in  the 
marksman's  blood." 

The  eloquence  for  which  Bernard  became  famous 
was  the  eloquence  of  a  message  that  had  first  been 
dipped  in  his  own  blood.  It  was  a  matter  of  heart 
experience,  and  not  merely  a  doctrine  of  his  creed; 
and  it  was  perhaps  largely  due  to  his  monastic 
life  and  its  large  opportunity  for  quiet  meditation 
and  uplifting  of  his  heart  in  prayer  to  God  in  that 
age  of  storm  and  distraction,  that  he  attained  at 
length  this  experience.  He  seems  to  have  experi- 
enced all  the  benefits,  and  to  have  been  preserved 
from  all  the  dangers  connected  with  such  a  fife. 
"From  these  dangers,  even  the  subtlest,"  says  Dr. 
Storrs,  "Bernard  was  preserved  not  only  by  the 
grace  of  God  in  his  sincere  and  ardent  soul,  but  by 
his  assiduous  study  of  the  Scriptures,  and  by  the 
multitudinous  activities,  within  the  convent  and 
beyond  it,  which  constantly  engaged  him.  When 
at  home  he  preached  every  day,  besides  taking  his 
faithful  part  in  the  customary  labors.  He  wrote 
treatises,  rich  in  the  products  of  careful  reflection, 
and  with  passages  of  remarkable  beauty  and  power 
as  well  as  of  high  spiritual  thought.  His  letter 
writing  was  constant,  of  vast  extent  and  variety, 
often  concerning  the  gravest  matters.  His  letters 
were  addressed  to  men  of  all  classes  and  conditions 

87 


NINE  GREAT  PREACHERS 

and  on  all  sorts  of  subjects,  from  the  highest  themes 
of  truth,  duty,  and  Christian  experience,  to  the 
humblest  particulars  of  familiar  affairs." 

He  was  the  counselor  and  influential  advisor  of 
kings  and  popes.  "His  utmost  energy  was  called 
for  and  was  exerted  in  the  successive  crises  which 
confronted  him  in  the  Church  and  in  the  State, 
and  nothing  seems  to  have  occurred  in  France  or 
in  other  related  countries  during  the  last  thirty 
years  of  his  life,  concerning  directly  or  indirectly 
the  honor  and  interest  of  religion,  which  was  not 
brought  to  his  personal  notice,  on  which  his  govern- 
ing, practical  genius  was  not  intensely  busy. "  Thus, 
though  living  apart  from  the  world,  he  was  suffi- 
ciently concerned  with  its  great  interests  to  keep 
his  heart  in  healthy  sympathy  with  mankind. 

The  chief  interest,  however,  which  he  has  for  us 
is  not  that  of  a  representative  of  the  monastic  sys- 
tem, or  that  of  an  ecclesiastical  statesman,  but  that 
of  a  great  preacher,  whose  eminence  was  due,  to 
some  extent  perhaps,  to  his  peculiar  religious  life 
and  environment,  but  due  far  more  to  the  personal 
characteristics  which  distinguished  him.  What 
these  characteristics  were,  and  wherein  his  power 
as  a  preacher  chiefly  lay  we  will  now  attempt  to 
show. 

As  to  his  personal  appearance  and  physical  quali- 
fications: These  were  such  that  "he  persuaded  the 
eye  before  the  ear  heard  him."  He  was  of  about 
the  middle  height,  but  the  veneration  and  respect 
he  inspired  made  him  seem  taller.  His  figure  was 
slight    and    his    movements    were    graceful.     His 

88 


BERNARD  OF  CLAIRVAUX 

features,  possessing  a  refined  and  saintly  beauty, 
an  inheritance  from  his  mother,  were  yet  marked 
with  lines  of  strength  that  made  his  face  command- 
ing. It  was  lighted  up  with  expressive  eyes  which 
ordinarily  looked  only  gentleness,  tenderness  and 
benevolence,  but  "which  glowed  at  times  as  if  with 
di vines t  fires."  Delicate  health  and  physical  in- 
firmity made  him  seem,  at  first,  like  one  near  to 
death,  and  gave  great  solemnity  to  his  words.  There 
was,  however,  no  impression  of  feebleness  in  his 
speaking.  His  ardent  spirit  so  energized  his  fragile 
frame  and  physical  powers  that  he  displayed  great 
vivacity  and  astonishing  vigor  as  he  advanced  in 
his  discourse. 

He  hod  a  remarkable  voice,  "which  quivered  like 
a  harp  string  or  rang  like  a  trumpet  in  its  chang- 
ing emotion."  (Storrs.)  There  was  a  power  of 
entrancement  in  its  clear,  far-reaching  tone  which 
repeatedly  enthralled  great  multitudes,  and  such 
a  manifestation  of  spirit  as  made  the  impression  that 
he  was  a  heaven-sent  messenger. 

His  mental  qualities  were  still  more  extraordinary; 
among  them,  a  rich  and  fertile  imagination.  "One 
would  hardly  know,"  says  Dr.  Storrs,  "where  to 
find  a  brighter  example  of  the  power  which  is  im- 
parted to  the  preacher  by  this  noble,  if  sometimes 
dangerous,  faculty.  Whatever  his  subject,  however 
familiar,  or  apparently  trivial,  there  is  always  a 
transfiguring  light  thrown  upon  it  by  his  imagination, 
which  is  like  the  light  upon  Italian  hills.  His  sug- 
gestive faculty  was  quick,  active  and  fruitful  of 
thought.     Sometimes  he  indulged  it  too  much,  so 

89 


NINE  GREAT  PREACHERS 

much  that  a  hearer  would  find  it  hard  to  discover 
the  relation  between  his  text  and  the  sermon  which 
followed;  for  *the  text  is  often  hardly  more  than  the 
nest,  from  which  like  the  eagle  he  lifts  himself  on 
eager  wing  to  touch,  if  he  may,  the  stars.'" 

He  possessed  an  extraordinary  power  of  mental 
abstraction.  When  meditating  upon  his  sermons 
in  his  convent  cell,  or  in  the  rustic  arbor  with  an 
enchanting  view  of  the  lovely  valley,  to  which  he 
often  retired,  he  became  lost  in  thought  and  in- 
sensible to  everything  without.  Though  his  love 
of  nature  amounted  to  a  passion  and  he  was  alive 
to  her  every  suggestion  and  influence,  and  though 
he  found  in  her  an  interpreter  of  revelation,  so  that 
he  says,  "whatever  he  had  learned  of  the  Scrip- 
tures and  of  their  spiritual  meaning  had  chiefly 
come  to  him  while  he  was  meditating  and  praying 
in  the  woods  and  fields,"  yet  when  occasion  re- 
quired he  could  exclude  everything  from  his  mind 
and  become  engrossed  in  whatever  subject  claimed 
his  attention.  This  is  an  invaluable  power.  To 
it  Isaac  Newton  attributed  whatever  preeminence 
over  other  men  he  had  won  in  science.  The  preacher 
needs  it,  to  be  able  to  elaborate  his  thought  amid 
the  distractions  of  the  world. 

But  the  most  important  qualifications  of  Bernard, 
as  of  every  great  preacher,  were  moral  and  spiritual. 
These  had  their  roots  in  and  were  nourished  by  his 
religious  faith.  This  faith  was  that  in  which  he 
was  instructed  in  his  youth,  when  the  teaching  of 
the  Catholic  Church  was,  as  compared  with  that  of 
later  times,  much  closer  to  original  primitive  Chris- 

90 


BERNARD  OF  CLAIRVAUX 

tianity  and  more  in  harmony  with  the  sacred 
Scriptures.  Luther  extols  him,  as  "the  most  God- 
fearing and  pious  of  monks";  and  Calvin,  as  ** a  pious 
and  holy  writer,  above  his  time,  pungent  and  dis- 
criminating in  rebuke  of  its  errors."  "He  accepted, 
without  reserve,  the  system  of  Christianity  as  it 
had  come  to  him  from  the  past,  as  it  seemed  to 
him  set  forth  in  the  Scriptures,  as  it  was  associated 
with  the  deepest  and  subtlest  longings  and  attain- 
ments of  his  spiritual  nature.  He  believed  it  be- 
cause he  felt  it.  He  could  truly  say  of  it:  *A11  my 
springs  are  in  Thee.'  The  sphere  of  truth  had  to 
him  an  atmosphere  about  it  full  of  tints  and  sunny 
splendors,  in  contemplating  which  his  soul  delighted, 
and  by  which  the  truth  seemed  freshly  verified.  He 
was  a  contemplative  yet  a  most  practical  mystic." 
(Storrs.) 

The  criterion  of  its  truth,  or  reality,  was  its  power 
and  tendency  to  bring  man's  spirit  nearer  to  God. 
That  evidence  of  its  divine  authority  Bernard  him- 
self had  received  to  a  remarkable  degree.  Neander 
and  other  close  students  of  his  life  and  character 
dwell  much  and  often  upon  his  deep  and  large  re- 
ligious experience.  He  was  not  content  with  a 
traditional  faith;  he  was  not  satisfied  with  anything 
less  than  a  personal  verification  of  it  obtained 
through  his  own  moral  perceptions  and  spiritual 
intuitions  as  these  came  to  him  in  prayer,  earnest 
study  and  deep  meditation  upon  the  Scripture 
teachings. 

Having  thus  verified  it,  he  was,  in  his  preaching, 
a  witness  to  its  truth.     He  spoke  as  one  who  had 

91 


NINE   GREAT  PREACHERS 

himself  received  and  heard  it  from  God.  "No 
doubt  fettered  his  powers.  Celestial  impulses  were 
felt  to  vibrate  on  his  uplifting  words."  The  con- 
viction and  certainty  which  belong  to  such  a  preacher, 
resounding  in  his  tones  and  looking  forth  from  his 
eyes,  gave  to  his  utterances  a  thrilling  effect. 

This  ability  to  bear  credible  witness  to  the  truth 
is  the  supreme  qualification  of  the  preacher.  It 
stood  first  in  the  qualifications  of  the  apostles. 
It  is  first  always.  It  is  the  source  of  other  quali- 
fications. Besides  certainty  and  conviction,  it  gives 
to  the  preacher  earnestness,  spirituality,  a  tender 
Christlike  love  of  souls,  intrepid  boldness,  the  au- 
thority which  invests  a  messenger  from  God.  These 
qualities  were  characteristic  of  Bernard.  Histo- 
rians and  contemporaries  say  of  him,  that  "the 
doctrine  which  he  taught  came  to  men  illumined, 
and  spiritually  emphasized  by  their  clear  perception 
of  his  profound  experience  of  it";  that  "he  spoke 
as  one  who  had  communion  with  heaven";  that 
"he  seemed  to  reverence  every  man  and  to  fear 
no  man";  that  his  influence  was  so  immense  that 
"he  was  at  once  the  leading  and  governing  head 
of  Christendom,  more  the  pope  than  was  the  pontiff 
himself,"  and  that  "his  persuasive  power  was  so 
great  that  he  led  men  captive  and  constrained  them 
almost  against  their  wills  to  do  his  bidding";  that 
"the  Germans  who  could  not  understand  a  word 
he  said,  were  carried  away  by  his  preaching  equally 
with  his  own  more  excitable  countrymen." 

The  following  remarkable  example  of  the  sub- 
duing power  of  his  eloquence  is  reported  by  histo- 

92 


BERNARD  OF  CLAIRVAUX 

rians.  It  was  connected  with  a  famous  dispute  as 
to  the  right  of  succession  to  the  papacy,  which  oc- 
curred in  Bernard's  time.  Of  the  two  claimants, 
Anacletus  2d  and  Innocent  2d,  Innocent  at  last 
prevailed,  chiefly  through  the  influence  of  Bernard. 
Opposed  to  him  was  the  powerful  Count  of  Aqui- 
taine,  who  in  his  fierce  opposition  deposed  those 
bishops  in  his  dominions  who  favored  Innocent,  and 
filled  their  vacant  places  with  creatures  of  his  own 
choosing.  "He  was  a  man  of  vast  stature  and  of 
gigantic  strength  with  a  peculiarly  violent,  sensual 
and  intractable  temper."  He  feared  not  God  nor 
regarded  man. 

When  Innocent  had  become  established  in  the 
papal  chair,  Bernard  in  company  with  the  papal 
legate  waited  upon  this  fierce  prince  to  induce  him 
to  give  in  his  allegiance  to  the  generally  recognized 
pope,  and  to  reinstate  the  deposed  bishops.  The 
pope  he  was  willing  to  recognize,  but  the  bishops 
he  refused  to  restore.  "They  had  offended  him 
past  forgivness  and  he  had  sworn  never  to  be  rec- 
onciled to  them.  Argument  was  vain;  as  well  argue 
with  a  wild  beast."  Bernard  broke  off  the  useless 
discussion,  and  proceeded  with  his  companions  to 
the  church  to  celebrate  mass.  The  count  remained 
at  the  door,  an  unrepentant  rebel  to  the  Church. 
When  the  host  had  been  consecrated,  Bernard  with 
lifted  arms  and  flashing  face  advanced  with  it  to- 
ward him  and  said:  "We  have  besought  you  and 
you  have  spurned  us.  These  servants  of  God  have 
entreated  you  and  you  have  despised  them.  Be- 
hold, here  comes  to  you  the  Virgin's  Son,  the  Head 


NINE  GREAT  PREACHERS 

and  Lord  of  the  Church  which  you  persecute.  Your 
judge  is  here,  *at  whose  name  every  knee  shall 
bow,  of  things  in  heaven  and  things  on  earth,  and 
things  under  the  earth.'  Your  Judge  is  here,  into 
whose  hands  your  soul  is  to  pass.  Will  you  spurn 
Him  also?  Will  you  despise  Him  as  you  have  de- 
spised His  Servants.^" 

"An  awful  silence,"  we  are  told,  "fell  on  the 
assembly  and  a  dread  expectation.  The  furious  and 
implacable  count,  pierced  in  spirit,  fell  to  the  ground, 
and  lay  there  speechless.  Lifted  by  his  knights, 
he  could  not  stand,  and  fell  again  foaming  at  the 
mouth.  Bernard  bade  him  rise  and  listen  to  the 
judgment  of  God.  He  presented  the  Bishop  of 
Poictiers,  whom  he  had  violently  expelled  from  his 
see,  and  commanded  the  count  to  give  him,  then 
and  there,  the  kiss  of  peace,  and  restore  Jiim  to  his 
seat.  He  meekly  obeyed  and  with  a  kiss  led  the 
bishop  to  his  place.  He  who  had  an  army  at  his 
back,  and  who  himself  could,  by  reason  of  his  brute 
strength,  have  smitten  Bernard  into  instant  death 
with  one  blow  of  fist  or  mace,  yielded  to  the  onset 
of  his  overwhelming  will.  Nor  only  for  the  time; 
he  gave  himself,  from  that  time  on,  to  repentance 
for  sin  and  the  service  of  religion." 

This  incident  shows  a  man  of  masterful  force, 
resolute  spirit,  and  indomitable  will,  as  well  as  of 
intrepid  courage.  One  might  think  it  indicated 
also  a  haughty,  presumptuous  spirit;  but  that  would 
be  a  mistake.  Though  at  the  impulse  of  duty  he 
did  not  hesitate,  as  God's  minister,  to  rebuke  or 
expostulate  with  kings  and  popes  and  great  nobes. 


BERNARD  OF  CLAIRVAUX 

he  was,  and,  notwithstanding  the  honors  and  ap- 
plause he  received,  he  continued  to  be,  one  of  the 
most  humble  and  self -depreciating  of  men.  "The 
humility  of  his  heart,"  we  are  told,  "surpassed  the 
majesty  of  his  fame,  so  that  when  receiving  the 
profuse  honors  and  adulation  of  princes  or  of  peoples, 
he  did  not  seem  to  himself  to  be  Bernard,  but  some 
one  else  substituted  for  him;  he  only  recognizing 
himself  in  his  proper  personality  when  he  resumed 
familiar  talk  with  the  humbler  of  his  brethren." 

Perhaps  it  may  be  truly  said,  that  when  in  his 
liigh  moods  of  spiritual  exaltation  and  of  eloquence, 
he  was  another  person.  Those  moods  were  due  to 
the  descent  of  the  Spirit  of  God  upon  him,  or  to  his 
becoming  suddenly  possessed  by  truths  and  ideas 
which  under  the  operation  of  the  spirit  lifted  him 
above  his  usual  self.  There  are  instances  in  the 
Bible  where  the  spirit  of  God  came  upon  men  with 
transporting  power.  (Examples:  Samson,  Elijah, 
Elisha,  Isaiah,  etc.)  Most  of  us  can  remember 
seasons  in  our  experience,  when  we  have  been  Hfted 
to  such  exaltation  of  mind  and  high  achievements 
by  inspiring  ideas  and  spiritual  influences,  that, 
as  we  look  back  upon  them  from  the  lower  plain 
to  which  alas!  we  soon  descended  and  on  which 
we  usually  move,  it  seems  as  if  it  was  some  one  else 
that  felt  and  spoke  and  did  thus.  Our  study  of  the 
life  of  Bernard  has  made  the  impression  upon  us  that 
his  amazing  eloquence  is  to  be  explained  in  this  way. 
The  "Spirit  of  God  came  upon  him"  at  those  times, 
and  with  this  unction  from  on  High  his  speech  pos- 
sessed an  irresistible  and  marvelous  power. 

95 


NINE   GREAT  PREACHERS 

We  give  two  more  instances,  as  Dr.  R.  S.  Storrs 
has  described  them  in  his  fascinating  volume:  "He 
preached  once  in  Paris,  in  the  schools  of  philosophy, 
where  men  were  too  busy  with  engrossing  disputa- 
tions to  give  any  practical  heed  to  his  words,  and  the 
discourse  apparently  produced  no  effect.  He  went 
home  to  pray,  with  sobs  and  groans,  with  deep 
searchings  of  heart  and  a  passion  of  tears.  He 
was  in  anguish  of  spirit,  lest  God  had  forsaken  him. 
The  next  day  he  preached  again,  with  the  unction 
and  energy  derived  from  this  divine  communion, 
and  large  numbers  were  converted  and  gave  them- 
selves to  God  at  the  hand  of  his  servant." 

The  other  instance  is  his  discourse  at  Spires  be- 
fore the  Emperor  Conrad,  whom  he  sought  to  enlist 
in  the  second  crusade,  which  Bernard,  unhappily 
for  his  fame,  was  chiefly  instrumental  in  causing: 
"At  Frankfort,  Bernard  had  had  audience  with  the 
emperor,  but  had  failed  to  impress  him  w^th  the 
duty  or  the  privilege  of  taking  part  in  the  crusade. 
Subsequently,  at  Spires,  he  saw  him  again,  but 
without  effect.  The  only  answer  he  obtained  from 
him  was,  that  he  would  consider  the  matter,  con- 
sult his  advisers,  and  give  his  reply  on  the  following 
day.  On  that  day,  Bernard  officiated  at  mass,  the 
Emperor  being  present.  Suddenly,  without  invi- 
tation, moved  as  he  felt  by  the  divine  spirit,  he 
began  to  preach.  At  the  end  of  the  discourse,  turn- 
ing to  Conrad  in  the  crowded  cathedral,  and  feeling 
himself  as  much  alone  with  him  as  if  the  earth  had 
swung  out  of  sight  and  only  they  two  remained  to 
remember  it,  he  addressed  him,  not  as  an  emperor, 

96 


BERNARD  OF  CLAIRVAUX 

but  as  a  man.  His  whole  soul  flung  itself  forth  from 
his  impassioned  lips,  and  he  was  for  the  time  as 
one  inspired.  He  pictured  the  coming  tribunal  of 
judgment  with  the  man  then  before  him  standing 
there  in  the  presence  of  the  Christ  who  says  to 
him,  *0  man,  what  ought  I  to  have  done  for  thee, 
which  I  have  not  done?'  He  set  forth  the  height 
and  splendor  of  royalty,  the  riches  of  the  emperor,  the 
wise  counsels  he  could  command,  his  virile  strength 
of  mind  and  body,  for  all  which  things  he  must 
give  account.  The  whole  scene  of  the  coming 
judgment  seemed  palpably  present  to  the  mind  of 
the  preacher,  while  it  flamed  as  a  vision  through 
his  prophetic  admonitory  words.  We  may  con- 
ceive that  the  cathedral  itself  appeared  to  darken 
in  the  shadows  and  to  tremble  with  the  echoes  of 
ethereal  thunders,  as  'He  who  cometh  with  clouds' 
was  foreshown.  At  last  the  Emperor,  bursting  into 
tears  in  the  midst  of  the  discourse,  exclaimed:  *I 
acknowledge  the  gifts  of  the  Divine  favor;  nor  will 
I  prove  ungrateful  for  them.  He  assisting  me  I 
am  ready  to  serve  Him,  seeing  that  on  His  part  I 
am  so  admonished.'  'The  Emperor  took  the  holy 
banner  from  the  hand  of  Bernard,  a  multitude  of 
nobles  followed  eagerly  his  example  and  the  second 
crusade  was  launched  upon  its  turbulent  way." 

Besides  this  remarkable  unction,  he  possessed 
the  equally  important  qualification  of  a  saintly  char- 
acter. "Remember  to  give  to  your  words  the  voice 
of  a  noble  virtue,"  he  once  said  to  a  young  abbot, 
whom  he  was  instructing  in  the  art  of  preaching. 
He  himself  was  an  eminent  example  of  his  own 

7  97 


NINE  GREAT  PREACHERS 

teaching.  His  eloquence  well  exemplified  Emer- 
son's definition  of  being  "the  best  speech  of  the 
best  soul."  His  evident  piety  and  the  striking 
fruits  of  it  in  his  life  caused  him  to  be  regarded  as 
a  genuine  saint  by  all  classes.  He  was  canonized 
only  twenty  years  after  his  death.  Men  coveted 
his  blessing  as  certain  to  bring  celestial  good;  they 
imputed  to  him  heavenly  wisdom;  he  spoke  with 
the  authority  of  one  enjoying  the  special  favor  and 
the  direction  of  heavenly  powers.  "His  very  char- 
acter seemed  an  evangel." 

One  more  qualification  and  our  characterization 
of  him  is  finished.  He  was  a  ''gospeV'  preacher 
in  the  truest  sense  of  the  word.  The  truth  with 
which  he  charged  his  sermons  and  the  motives  to 
which  he  appealed  were  almost  wholly  evangelical. 
Man's  lost  condition  through  sin  and  God's  redeem- 
ing love  and  grace  as  expressed  in  the  person  and 
work  of  Christ  viewed  as  man,  savior,  priest,  and 
king,  these  doctrines  were  the  warp  and  woof  of 
his  sermons.  These  doctrines  form  a  great  maga- 
zine of  spiritual  power.  The  motives  that  are 
touched  by  them  are  the  strongest  and  most  potent 
known  to  man.  Appealed  to,  or  stimulated  and 
strengthened  by  them,  men  rise  to  greater  things 
than  otherwise  would  be  reached  by  them.  In 
Bernard's  case,  these  doctrines  were  both  the  source 
of  an  irresistible  eloquence  and  the  spring  of  a 
seraphic  piety. 

How  lofty  and  irresistible,  at  times,  was  his  elo- 
quence, the  examples  given  sufficiently  indicate; 
how  ardent  his  piety  is  shown  by  his  hymns.     Ex- 


BERNARD  OF  CLAIRVAUX 

amples  of  these  hymns  may  be  found  in  most  of 
our  hymnals.  Originally  put  into  Latin  verse, 
good  English  translations  of  them  have  been  made. 
The  following  are  the  first  lines  of  four  that  are  now 
generally  familiar: 

"O  sacred  Head,  once  wounded.'* 
"O  Jesus,  King  most  wonderful.'* 
"Jesus,  thou  Joy  of  loving  hearts!" 
"Jesus,  the  very  thought  of  Thee." 
(In  the  Manval  of  Praise,  Oberlin.) 

Where  in  the  whole  field  of  hymnology  can  one 
find  expressed  more  ardent  love  for  Christ,  or  more 
complete  trust  and  devotion  than  in  these  hymns  .^^ 
They  match  those  of  Charles  Wesley.  They  are 
the  breathings  of  a  soul  ravished  with  the  love  of 
him  whom  they  extol. 

The  most  of  his  sermons  that  have  come  down 
to  us,  in  the  fragmentary  reports  of  them  made 
by  some  of  the  brethren  at  Clairvaux,  are  char- 
acterized by  the  same  sweetness  of  spirit  and  warmth 
of  evangelical  sentiment  as  these  hymns.  "They 
are,"  to  quote  an  admiring  Catholic  eulogist,  "at 
once  so  sweet  and  so  ardent  that  it  is  as  though  his 
mouth  were  a  fountain  of  honey  and  his  heart  a 
furnace  of  love." 

Being  such  a  man,  with  such  extraordinary  gifts 
and  qualifications  for  preaching,  and  achieving  by 
it  such  marvelous  results,  what  shall  we  say  of  his 
eloquence?  Considering  its  triumphs  and  effects, 
it  seems  to  have  realized,  in  the  largest  measure, 
that  witchery  of  speech,  mysterious,  inexplicable, 

99 


NINE  GREAT  PREACHERS 

which  is  so  wonderful  in  the  highest  eloquence.  As 
a  poet  of  the  highest  genius  is  born,  not  made,  so 
with  such  a  preacher.  His  eloquence  is  a  gift  of 
God.     No  art  or  industry  could  fabricate  it. 

And  yet  Bernard's  example  is  full  of  instruction 
for  all  preachers  and  students  preparing  for  the 
ministry.  It  emphasizes  in  particular  the  follow- 
ing things: 

(1)  The  value  to  the  preacher  of  occasional  seasons 
of  seclusion  from  the  world,  for  close  study  of  God^s 
wordy  for  meditation  and  the  replenishment  of  his 
spiritual  force  by  prayer  and  communion  with  God. 
Without  this  the  mind  is  in  danger  of  becoming 
unspiritual,  professional,  destitute  of  any  fresh, 
clear  vision,  or  inspiring  thought.  Religious  seclu- 
sion for  the  purposes  named  is  as  needful  for  the 
health  of  the  soul,  as  rest  and  sleep  for  the  health 
of  the  body.  By  means  of  it  the  exhausted  foun- 
tains of  life  are  refilled,  as  the  fountain  of  an  inter- 
mittent spring  is  replenished  by  a  period  of  seeming 
inactivity.  *'The  spirit  needs  meditation  as  the 
day  needs  the  night"  is  a  maxim  of  experience. 
Without  the  night  we  should  never  see  the  stars; 
without  meditation,  we  should  lose  sight  of  spiritual 
verities  that  give  an  ineffable  grandeur  to  our  being. 
It  is  the  preacher's  office  to  explore  the  depths  of 
those  heavens  in  which  these  verities  lie  hidden, 
and  direct  the  attention  of  men  to  them.  Without 
meditation  and  prayer  he  cannot  successfully  do 
either  one  or  the  other. 

(2)  The  life  of  Bernard  emphasizes  also  the  im- 
portance to  the  ministry  of  combining  with  such  sea- 

100 


BERNARD  OF  CLAIRVAUX 

sons  of  seclusion  from  the  world  a  constant  living 
contact  with  the  world  and  an  active  interest  in  its 
affairs.  It  was  this  living  contact  with  the  world 
and  active  interest  in  its  affairs  that  preserved 
Bernard  from  the  common  evils  associated  with 
monasticism.  It  is  with  men  as  with  water.  Water 
is  purified  and  clarified  by  being  occasionally  with- 
drawn from  the  turbid  stream  in  which  it  flows. 
Pausing  in  its  onward  rush  in  the  still  placid  pools 
that  occur  here  and  there  in  its  course,  it  precipi- 
tates the  sediment  which  has  defiled  its  purity, 
and  it  better  reflects  the  heavens  in  its  tranquil 
surface.  But  entirely  withdrawn  from  the  stream 
and  separated  long  from  it,  so  that  it  does  not  feel 
its  quickening  pulse,  the  water  of  the  pool  becomes 
stagnant,  and  the  place  is  converted  into  a  malarial 
swamp.  So  it  is,  I  say,  with  men.  Therefore  the 
minister  must,  with  his  seasons  of  seclusion  for 
prayer  and  study  and  meditation,  join  such  an 
interest  in  the  world  and  such  an  active  part  with 
mankind  as  will  preserve  his  heart  from  corrup- 
tion. He  can  do  this  by  diligently  exercising  his 
pastoral  function,  by  performing  those  ministries 
to  the  sick,  the  poor,  the  tempted,  and  by  discharg- 
ing the  duties  to  society  and  the  state,  incumbent 
on  him  as  a  citizen,  and  which  the  ministry  is  so 
well  qualified  to  perform. 

(3)  The  life  of  Bernard  emphasizes  the  impor- 
tance of  a  genuine  experience  by  the  minister  of  the 
truth  he  preaches.  "Instructed  by  the  Mistress  Ex- 
perience," says  Bernard,  "I  will  sing  of  mercy  and 
judgment. "     His  profound  religious  experience  made 

101 


NINE   GREAT  PREACHERS 

him  an  impressive  and  convincing  witness  to  the 
great  doctrines  of  the  Bible.  So  is  it  with  any 
successful  minister.  The  true  prophet  will  not 
be  content,  unless  he  has  such  a  testimony  to  give. 
Others  may  be  satisfied  with  a  tradition;  he  must 
hear  the  voice  of  the  spirit  for  himself  and  verify 
or  reject  the  doctrine  which  tradition  affirms. 

In  what  has  been  said  of  Bernard  we  have  con- 
fined ourselves  to  his  remarkable  personal  quali- 
ties, his  saintly  virtues,  his  eminent  abilities  and 
admirable  achievements.  Scarcely  a  word  has 
been  given  to  faults  of  character  or  conduct.  On 
this  account  we  may  be  accused  of  excessive  eulogy 
to  the  discredit  of  the  truthfulness  of  our  study  of 
the  man.  No  doubt  he  had  faults  of  character 
and  conduct.  He  carried  his  abstinence  and  asceti- 
cism to  an  absurd  extreme,  to  the  great  injury  of 
his  health  and  the  perpetuation  of  a  false  standard 
of  conduct.  His  resolute  encouragement  of  the 
second  crusade  was  most  unwise  and  disastrous. 
He  was  chiefly  responsible  for  its  mischief.  It 
was  a  chimerical  enterprise,  doomed  from  the  start 
to  melancholy  failure,  and  involving  the  sacrifice 
of  many  precious,  heroic  lives  after  incredible  hard- 
ships and  sufferings.  But  probably  the  worst 
thing  that  can  be  alleged  against  him  is  his  theo- 
logical persecution  of  and  intolerant  treatment  of 
Abelard  at  the  famous  Synod  of  Sens,  A.  D.  1140. 

Abelard  was  one  of  the  most  celebrated  men  of 
his  time;  like  Bernard  he  was  of  noble  family,  of 
the  province  of  Brittany.  Possessing  an  eager  in- 
quiring mind  and  displaying  extraordinary  abilities 

10^ 


BERNARD  OF  CLAIRVAUX 

as  a  youth,  he  was  provided  by  his  father  with  larger 
educational  advantages  than  usual  for  those  times. 
Study  was  an  enthusiasm  with  him,  and  he  grati- 
fied his  passion  by  attendance  upon  the  most  famous 
schools  of  the  kingdom.  At  the  age  of  twenty, 
he  went  to  Paris,  and  studied  at  its  schools  of  philos- 
ophy and  letters.  Handsome,  brilliant  in  thought 
and  speech,  accomplished  and  engaging  in  manners 
and  address,  he  attracted  attention  and  admira- 
tion wherever  he  went.  While  yet  a  very  young 
man  he  himself  became  a  teacher,  and  opened  schools 
at  Melun,  at  Corbeil,  and  on  the  height  of  Saint 
Genevieve,  to  which  many  pupils  were  attracted, 
upon  whom  he  made  such  an  impression  of  mental 
power,  sagacity  and  extensive  knowledge  that  the 
saying  became  current  among  them,  that  Abelard 
"knew  whatever  was  knowable."  At  the  age  of 
thirty  four  he  became  the  head  of  that  great  school 
of  Paris,  which  developed  later  into  its  famous  Uni- 
versity. 

From  studies  in  philosophy  and  science,  his  eager 
mind  turned  its  attention  to  theology,  and  he  aspired 
to  become  equally  a  master  in  that.  His  effort 
as  a  theologian,  says  Dr.  Storrs,  was  "to  present 
a  rational  philosophy  of  the  Christian  religion,  and, 
without  denying  its  transcendent  truths,  to  so  com- 
mend them  to  the  intelligence  of  men  as  to  win  for 
them  just  mental  assent,  and  to  reconcile  with  them 
the  more  searching  and  inquisitive  thought  of  the 
time."  The  effort  seems  to  us  to  have  been  com- 
mendable and  deserving  of  the  approbation  of  the 
ruling  authorities  of  the  Church  instead  of   their 

103 


NINE  GREAT  PREACHERS 

condemnation.  It  is  not  improbable  that  tbey 
would  have  given  their  approval  had  Abelard  ex- 
hibited along  with  his  effort  a  persuasive  and  con- 
ciliatory spirit.  But  he  was  derisive  and  imperious 
towards  his  critics,  impatient  of  dissent,  and  of  the 
hesitation  of  cautious  and  timid  minds,  answering 
their  objections  with  scorn  and  a  haughty  disdain. 
Men  are  not  prone  to  give  to  new  ideas  and  novel 
statements  a  ready  acceptance,  if  those  who  pro- 
pose them  exhibit  an  unamiable  temper.  These 
novelties  may  be  supported  by  good  reasons,  but 
their  reasonableness  will  not  be  perceived  under  the 
circumstances.  Those  opposed  will  refuse  to  be 
convinced,  if  the  advocate  uses  the  lash  of  caustic 
speech  to  overcome  their  resistance.  Instead  of 
converts  he  makes  them  determined  adversaries. 
Cousin  calls  Abelard  "the  father  of  modern  ra- 
tionalism." The  effect  of  his  teaching  was  to  un- 
settle the  faith  of  his  disciples  in  the  traditional 
teachings  of  the  Church.  "The  bold  young  man," 
says  the  historian  Michelet,  "simplified,  explained, 
humanized,  everything.  He  suffered  scarcely  any- 
thing of  the  hidden  and  the  divine  to  remain  in  the 
most  commanding  mysteries.  It  seemed  as  if  the 
Church  till  that  time  had  been  stammering,  while 
Abelard  spoke  out."  But  in  the  opinion  of  the 
leaders  of  the  Church  it  was  fit  that  she  should 
stammer  in  speaking  of  the  mysteries  of  her  faith. 
In  her  view  they  were  incomprehensible,  and  she 
looked  upon  his  effort  to  explain  them  as  irreverent 
and  profane.  Bernard  thought  so,  and  placed  him- 
self decisively  among  Abelard's   adversaries,   after 

104 


BERNARD  OF  CLAIRVAUX 

a  careful  examination  of  his  published  writings, 
deeming  him  "a  rash  adventurer  on  a  dangerous 
path,  if  not  a  concealed  enemy  of  the  truth."  He 
abhorred  him  both  as  a  teacher  of  damnable  error 
subversive  of  the  faith  of  the  Church,  and  as  a 
wicked,  immoral  man,  who  had  seduced  for  the 
gratification  of  his  lust  the  beautiful  and  accom- 
plished Heloise,  of  whom  his  biographer  says,  "her 
century  put  her  at  the  head  of  all  women,"  and 
the  annals  of  the  convent  of  which  she  afterwards 
became  abbess,  "as  most  illustrious  in  learning  and 
religion. " 

"The  men,"  says  Dr.  Storrs,  "represented  col- 
liding tendencies.  Two  systems,  two  ages,  came 
into  shattering  conflict  in  their  persons.  It  was 
heart  against  head;  a  fervent  sanctity  against  the 
critical  and  rationalizing  temper;  an  adoring  faith 
in  mysterious  truths,  believed  to  have  been  an- 
nounced by  God,  against  the  dissolving  and  destruc- 
tive analysis  which  would  force  those  truths  into 
subjection  to  the  human  understanding.  It  was 
the  whole  series  of  the  Church  Fathers,  fitly  and 
signally  represented  by  Bernard,  against  recent 
thinkers  who  questioned  everything,  who  refused 
to  be  bound  by  any  authority." 

It  was  many  years,  however,  after  their  antag- 
onism was  felt  and  known,  before  these  two  men 
met  to  join  issue  in  open  discussion  before  the 
Council  of  Sens.  Abelard,  skilled  in  dialectics  and 
a  practised  debater,  who  had  been  victorous  in  many 
wordy  conflicts  with  opposers,  was  eager  for  it  and 
requested  it  as  a  privilege;  Bernard  went  to  it  re- 

105 


NINE  GREAT  PREACHERS 

luctantly  and  consented  only  when  urged  to  it  by 
the  earnest  entreaty  of  friends  and  the  authorita- 
tive summons  of  the  archbishop  of  Rheims,  to  call 
this  bold  innovator  to  account  for  his  heresies  and 
defend  the  faith  of  the  Church  from  their  mis- 
chief. 

The  Council  was  an  imposing  assembly,  at  which 
were  present  the  king  of  France  and  many  nobles 
and  prelates  of  high  rank.  A  considerable  part  of 
it  consisted  of  the  friends  and  followers  of  Abelard, 
who  expected  that  he  would  successfully  defend 
himself  from  the  accusations  with  which  he  was 
charged.  Bernard,  put  forward  as  the  champion  of 
Orthodoxy  and  the  defender  of  the  Church,  entered 
upon  his  task  simply  and  naturally.  ''He  had  col- 
lected passages  from  the  writings  of  Abelard,  seven- 
teen in  number,  which  he  judged  heretical  and  con- 
trary to  the  faith  of  the  Church,  and  he  called  for 
the  reading  of  these,  that  Abelard  might  declare 
whether  he  recognized  them  as  his  own  and  then 
might  either  retract  or  defend  them.  A  hush  of 
attention  and  expectancy  pervaded  the  assembly. 
But  the  clerk  had  hardly  begun  to  read  when  Abe- 
lard rose  and  interrupted  him,  to  the  astonishment 
of  all,  by  saying  that  he  would  not  then  discuss 
the  points  in  question,  that  he  appealed  to  the 
pope  for  judgment;  then  abruptly  left  the  hall. 
Bernard,  amazed  at  his  action,  tried  to  stop  him. 
He  earnestly  assured  Abelard  that  nothing  of  harm 
was  intended  to  his  person,  that  he  might  answer 
freely  and  in  perfect  security,  that  he  would  be 
heard  with  patience,  and  would  not  be  checked  or 

106 


BERNARD  OF  CLAIRVAUX 

smitten  by  a  premature  sentence.  In  vain;  he 
would  not  be  detained,  and  "Abelard  went  from 
the  council  to  the  street  on  that  June  day  a  beaten 
and  broken  man."  Why  he  did  so,  what  the  cause 
of  his  sudden  panic  and  flight  from  this  council 
to  which  he  had  come  so  confident  of  vindication, 
is  one  of  the  puzzles  of  ecclesiastical  history. 

After  he  had  gone,  Bernard  insisted,  notwith- 
standing, that  the  trial  proceed  by  the  examina- 
tion of  the  passages  taken  from  his  writings,  and  a 
judgment  upon  them  be  given  by  the  council. 
Fourteen  of  them  in  regard  to  the  Trinity  and  the 
divine  nature  of  Christ,  his  redemptive  work,  and 
the  nature  of  sin  as  rooted  in  the  present  intention 
were  condemned.  At  the  request  of  the  bishops, 
the  action  of  the  council  was  reported  by  Bernard 
to  the  pope,  and,  in  turning  over  the  case  to  him 
for  decision  he  energetically  urged  the  prompt  con- 
demnation of  the  defendant;  and  Abelard,  largely 
through  Bernard's  influence,  was  condemned  by 
the  pope  with  his  writings,  which  were  consigned 
to  the  flames.  He  was  furthermore  enjoined  to 
keep  silent  thereafter,  and  sentenced  to  be  im- 
prisoned in  a  convent,  the  condemnation  being  de- 
termined upon  and  the  sentence  proclaimed  before 
Abelard,  who  was  on  his  way  to  Rome,  reached  the 
holy  city.  Such  treatment,  of  course,  was  unjust, 
but  it  was  according  to  the  habit  of  those  times, 
and  excused  with  the  plea  that  Abelard's  heresies 
were  very  dangerous  and  fast  spreading,  and  that 
prompt  action  was  imperative  to  arrest  them.  But 
injustice  and  wrong  are  not  excused  for  such  reasons; 

107 


NINE   GREAT  PREACHERS 

they  remind  us  of  the  clamor  to  Pilate  against 
Jesus  and  his  teaching  as  dangerous  to  the  Jewish 
hierarchy. 

Abelard  found  a  friend  and  protector  in  Peter 
the  Venerable,  the  abbot  of  the  rich  monastery 
of  Clugni,  one  of  the  noblest  churchmen  of  his  time, 
as  strictly  orthodox  as  Bernard  himself,  sweet- 
spirited  and  benignant,  whose  Christian  character 
is  shown  by  a  reported  saying  of  his:  **The  rule 
of  Benedict  is  always  subordinate  to  the  law  of 
charity."  With  him  at  Clugni,  Abelard  spent  the 
remaining  two  years  of  his  sad  and  eventful  life, 
the  pathetic  story  of  which  he  tells  in  his  *' History 
of  Calamities."  "It  is  one  of  the  saddest  books  ever 
written,"  says  Dr.  Storrs;  and  Remusat,  Abelard's 
biographer,  says:  "No  better  instruction  can  any- 
where be  given  of  the  misery  which  may  come  with 
the  most  beautiful  things  of  the  world,  genius,  learn- 
ing, glory,  love." 

We  are  glad  to  say  of  him,  that  through  the 
mediation  of  the  good  Abbot  of  Clugni  he  became 
reconciled  before  he  died  with  Bernard,  who  even 
became  his  friend  and  was  so  spoken  of  by  him; 
that  he  was  pardoned  his  offenses  by  the  pope, 
and  "permitted  again  to  use  and  enjoy  the  sacred 
oflSces  from  which  for  a  time  he  had  been  debarred." 
We  are  furthermore  told  that,  in  those  last  years, 
"his  manner  was  humble,  he  was  diligently  ob- 
servant of  the  sacraments  and  of  prayer,  that  he 
was  truly  penitent  for  his  past  sins,  and  that  the 
good  Abbot  said  in  view  of  his  good  influence  upon 
them,  that  "a  divine  arrangement  had  sent  this 

108 


BERNARD  OF  CLAIRVAUX 

honored  philosopher  and  servant  of  Christ,  en- 
riching the  monastery  with  a  gift  more  precious 
than  of  gold  and  topaz."  In  view  of  all  which, 
we  may  acquiesce  in  the  words  of  his  biographer: 
"We  need  not  mourn  too  much  for  his  sad  life; 
he  lived  in  keen  suffering  and  he  died  in  humilia- 
tion, but  he  had  his  glory,  and  he  was  beloved." 

Bernard  and  Abelard  were  regarded  as  rivals  in 
their  time,  and  the  followers  of  Abelard  accused 
the  former  of  jealousy  because  the  eminence  of  their 
master  was  eclipsing  his  fame.  But  a  study  of 
Bernard's  life  and  character  does  not  allow  us  to 
believe  this.  Anything  like  jealousy  or  envy  was 
foreign  to  his  breast.  He  was  lifted  by  his  genuine 
goodness  and  sanctity  above  such  infirmities,  even 
if  his  great  influence  had  not  made  him  superior 
to   them. 

The  fact  that  Bernard  was  able  by  his  influence 
to  defeat  and  crush  Abelard  was  no  evidence  either 
that  Abelard's  w^ork  in  life  was  a  failure.  There 
was  much  that  was  good  in  his  ideas  and  philo- 
sophical opinions,  and  this  good  remains  a  permanent 
blessing  to  mankind.  He  was  the  originator  of 
what  is  known  as  "the  moral  theory  of  the  atone- 
ment," that  "it  was  needed  and  intended  to  en- 
kindle in  us  such  love  toward  God  as  should  effec- 
tually incline  us  to  do  His  will,  and  make  us  ready 
for  suffering  and  service  in  His  cause."  Dr.  Storrs 
sums  up  correctly,  we  think,  the  truth  in  regard 
to  him:  "As  we  think  of  him  in  his  relations  to  the 
Abbot  of  Clairvaux  we  may  confidently  believe  that 
while  they  never  might  have  been  able  to  see  eye 

109 


NINE   GREAT  PREACHERS 

to  eye  in  their  contemplation  of  the  problems  of 

theology,  as  presented  in  their  time,  they  did  attain  | 

a  perfect  harmony  when  passing  beyond  the  mortal  | 

limitations.   .   .   .  And  certainly  we  know  that  the  j 
special    impulses    represented    by    either,    perhaps 

represented  extravagantly  by  either,  have  been  com-  : 

bined  ever  since  and  will  be  to  the  end,  in  the  his-  i 

toric  development  of  the  Church."  I 


110 


IV 
RICHARD  BAXTER 


IV 

RICHARD  BAXTER 
1615-1691 

Richard  Baxter  is  the  most  interesting  and 
picturesque  figure  among  the  old  EngHsh  divines. 
"If  he  had  Hved  in  primitive  times,"  says  an  eminent 
EngHsh  bishop,  "he  would  have  been  one  of  the 
Fathers  of  the  Church."  Born  November  12,  1615, 
of  pious  parents  of  the  middle  class,  he  received  a 
careful  religious  training.  His  first  decisive  religious 
impressions  were  experienced  in  his  fifteenth  year. 
To  dispel  remorse  for  a  petty  theft  of  fruit  from  a 
neighbor's  orchard,  he  took  up  and  began  to  read  an 
old,  torn  volume  which  he  found  at  home,  "Bunny's 
Resolution,"  by  a  Jesuit  author.  It  excited  in  his 
troubled  soul  the  desire  for  a  religious  life,  which 
resulted  in  his  conversion.  His  decision  to  enter 
the  ministry,  formed  in  his  nineteenth  year,  was  due 
to  the  serious  impressions  made  by  his  mother's 
death  and  his  narrow  escape  from  death  which 
occurred  about  the  same  time.  He  was  journeying 
on  horseback  in  winter.  At  a  certain  place,  where 
the  frozen  road  ran  between  high,  steep  banks,  he 
met  a  heavily  loaded  wagon.  To  avoid  it,  he  urged 
his  horse  up  the  steep  side  of  the  road.  His  saddle- 
girth  broke  and  he  was  thrown  before  the  wheel  of 

8  113 


NINE  GREAT  PREACHERS 

the  wagon.  In  a  moment  he  would  have  been 
crushed,  had  not  the  horses  suddenly  stopped,  as 
by  some  supernatural  intervention,  and  he  was 
dragged  away  from  destruction. 

His  early  education  was  defective.  Though  one 
of  the  most  learned  men  of  this  time,  he  had  no 
University  training.  "My  faults,"  he  says,  "are 
no  disgrace  to  a  University,  for  I  was  of  none.  I 
have  little  but  what  I  had  out  of  books  and  the 
inconsiderable  help  of  country  divines."  His  appe- 
tite for  reading  was  keen  and  in  the  indulgence  of  it 
he  was  omnivorous.  There  is  in  his  autobiography 
an  oft-quoted  passage,  where  he  speaks  of  the  wide 
range  of  his  reading,  of  which  the  following  extract 
is  only  a  portion:  "I  have  looked  over  .  .  . 
Erasmus,  Scaliger,  Salmasius,  Casaubon  and  many 
other  critical  grammarians.  I  have  read  almost  all 
the  physics  and  metaphysics  I  could  hear  of  .  .  . 
whole  loads  of  historians,  chronologers  and  anti- 
quaries. I  despise  none  of  their  learning.  All 
truth  is  useful;  mathematics,  which  I  have  least  of, 
I  find  a  pretty  manlike  sport.  But  if  I  had  no  other 
kind  of  knowledge  than  these,  what  were  my  under- 
standing worth? — I  have  higher  thoughts  of  the 
schoolmen  than  Erasmus  had;  I  much  value  the 
method  and  sobriety  of  Aquinas,  the  subtilty  of 
Scotus  and  Occam,  the  plainness  of  Durandus,  the 
solidity  of  Ariminensis,  the  profundity  of  Brad- 
wardine,  the  excellent  acuteness  of  many  of  their 
followers  [giving  the  names  of  more  than  twenty] 
and  many  others.  But  how  loath  should  I  be  to 
take  such  sauce  for  my  food  and  such  recreations  for 


114  \ 


\ 

\ 


RICHARD  BAXTER 

my  business!  The  jingling  of  too  much  and  too 
false  philosophy  among  them  oft  drowns  the  noise 
of  Aaron's  bells."  He  had,  however,  his  favorite 
authors,  to  whom  he  gave  a  more  particular  study, 
among  them,  Richard  Hooker;  and  a  careful  exami- 
nation of  Baxter's  works  shows  that  he  had  studied 
deeply  and  learned  much  from  the  "Ecclesiastical 
Polity." 

Baxter  was  ordained  for  the  ministry  in  his 
twenty -third  year  in  Worcester  Cathedral.  After 
preaching  here  and  there  for  two  years  or  more 
without  any  stated  charge,  he  entered  upon  his 
pastorate  at  Kidderminster  in  1640,  when  he  was 
twenty -five  years  old.  "There  are  some  three  or 
four  parishes  in  England,"  says  Dean  Stanley, 
"which  have  been  raised  by  their  pastors  to  a  world- 
wide fame.  Of  these  the  most  conspicuous  is  Kidder- 
minster. Kidderminster  without  Baxter  would  have 
nothing  but  its  carpets." 

A  Remarkable  Preacher 

His  preaching  was  characterized  from  the  start 
by  great  evangelic  earnestness.  He  so  felt  the 
importance  of  the  soul's  salvation  and  the  adequacy 
of  the  gospel  for  it,  that  he  thought  that  "if  men 
only  heard  this  as  they  ought,  they  could  not  but 
repent.  And  I  was  so  foolish  as  to  think  that  I  had 
so  much  to  say  of  such  convincing  force  for  the  truth 
that  men  could  scarcely  be  able  to  withstand  it." 

Baxter's  qualifications  as  a  preacher  were  extra- 
ordinary.    He  had  all  the  fervor  and  intensity  of 

115 


NINE  GREAT  PREACHERS 

Whitefield  united  with  great  reasoning  power. 
Besides  this,  he  had  what  he  calls  "a  familiar 
moving  voice,"  which  he  knew  how  to  manage  so 
that  every  thought  was  uttered  with  its  proper 
intonation  and  in  which  was  heard  "the  accent  of 
conviction."  He  took  great  pains  with  the  prepara- 
tion and  delivery  of  his  sermons.  It  is  evident  from 
some  passages  in  his  writings,  that  he  made  a  careful 
study  of  the  art  of  preaching  and  that  he  gave  much 
attention  to  both  the  matter  and  the  manner  of  his 
public  addresses.  "In  the  study  of  our  sermons," 
he  says,  "we  are  too  negligent.  We  must  study 
how  to  convince  and  get  within  men,  and  how  to 
bring  each  truth  to  the  quick,  and  not  leave  all  this 
to  our  extemporary  promptitude.  .  .  .  How  few 
ministers  preach  with  all  their  might!  There  is 
nothing  more  unsuitable  to  such  a  business  than  to 
be  slight  and  dull.  What!  speak  coldly  for  God  and 
for  men's  salvation!  Let  the  people  see  that  you  are 
in  earnest; — Men  will  not  cast  away  their  dearest 
pleasures  upon  a  drowsy  request.  A  great  matter 
lies  in  the  very  pronunciation  and  tone  of  speech. 
The  best  matter  will  scarcely  move  men  if  it  be  not 
movingly  delivered.  See  that  there  be  no  affectation, 
but  let  us  speak  as  familiarly  to  our  people  as  we 
would  do  if  we  were  talking  to  any  of  them  personally. 
We  must  lay  siege  to  the  souls  of  sinners.  In 
preaching  there  is  intended  a  communion  of  souls  and 
a  communication  from  ours  unto  theirs.  I  have 
observed  that  God  seldom  blesseth  any  man's  work 
so  much  as  his  whose  heart  is  set  upon  success." 
From  "The  Reformed  Pastor.") 

116 


RICHARD  BAXTER 

His  personal  appearance  in  the  pulpit  matched 
well  with  his  entrancing  voice,  unmistakable  sincerity 
and  earnestness  of  spirit.  His  countenance  in 
speaking  was  animated,  and  lighted  up  by  large, 
serious  eyes,  which  looked  the  entreaty  that  his 
tongue  uttered.  Delicate  health,  from  which  he 
suffered  nearly  all  his  life  and  by  which  he  was  often 
brought  near  to  death,  lent  additional  force  to  his 
speech.  His  words  were  those  of  "a  man  that  was 
betwixt  living  and  dead,"  so  that,  in  his  own  phrase, 
he  "preached  as  a  dying  man  to  dying  men."  But 
there  was  no  suggestion  of  feebleness  in  his  speaking. 
Such  was  the  strength  of  his  reasoning  and  the  grip 
of  his  thought,  and  his  ardent  spirit  so  energized  his 
fragile  frame  and  physical  powers  that  he  made  the 
impression  of  remarkable  tireless  vigor  as  he  advanced 
in  his  discourse.  His  style  was  that  of  genuine  oral 
address,  a  real  talking  style,  though  he  usually  read 
his  sermons.  We  have  the  evidence  of  this  in  his 
published  works,  like  the  "Call  to  the  Uncon- 
verted," which  contain  the  substance  of  sermons 
actually  preached.  Many  of  their  passages  are  but 
transcripts  or  extracts  from  those  sermons,  preserv- 
ing for  us  the  style  and  forms  of  thought  which 
marked  his  preaching.  Evidently  this  was  marked, 
as  Archdeacon  Trench  says,  by  "a  robust  and  mas- 
culine eloquence."  He  had  a  strong  imagination, 
and  used  it  with  rare  effect  when  proper;  but  he 
possessed  also  the  judgment  and  self-restraint  not 
to  use  it  when  there  was  danger  from  its  use  of 
diverting  the  hearer  from  serious  attention  to  the 
truth  presented. 

117 


NINE  GREAT  PREACHERS 

Nothing  can  be  wiser  from  a  rhetorical  point  of 
view  than  some  of  his  remarks  upon  the  sort  of  style 
required  for  successful  preaching: 

"The  plainest  words  are  the  most  profitable 
oratory  in  the  weightiest  matters.  Fineness  is  for 
ornament  and  delicacy  for  delight,  but  they  answer 
not  necessity.  Yea,  it  is  hard  for  the  hearer  to 
observe  the  matter  of  ornament  and  delicacy,  and 
not  be  carried  from  the  matter  of  necessity;  for  it 
usually  hindereth  the  due  operation  of  the  matter, 
keeps  it  from  the  heart,  stops  it  in  the  fancy  and 
makes  it  seem  light  as  the  style.  .  .  .  All  our 
teaching  must  be  as  plain  and  evident  as  we  can 
make  it.  If  you  would  not  teach  men,  what  do  you 
do  in  the  pulpit?  If  you  would,  why  do  you  not 
speak  so  as  to  be  understood?"  (From  "The  Re- 
formed Pastor.") 

He  preached  with  a  conviction  amounting  to 
certainty  of  the  truth  of  the  Scriptures,  due  to  a 
remarkable  personal  religious  experience  which  he 
had  in  sickness.  Having  this  conviction,  he  endeav- 
ored to  impart  it  to  his  hearers.  To  this  end  it  was 
his  practice  "so  to  study  the  Scripture  as  to  find 
passages  of  it  capable  of  simple  explanation  and 
appeal,  which  would  fasten  readily  upon  the  hearer's 
mind  and  would  occupy  his  daily  thoughts  until 
he  was  entirely  possessed  by  the  fact  of  the  imme- 
diate necessity  and  wisdom  of  guiding  himself  by  it." 
So  believing  the  Bible,  and  so  trying  to  have  others 
believe  it,  he  proved  the  saying  true,  that  "nothing 
can  withstand  the  force  of  the  man  who  upon  the 
most   awful   of   all   subjects   is   absolutely  sure  of 

118 


RICHARD  BAXTER 

what  he  says,  and  is  resolved  that  others  shall 
be  so,  too." 

He  possessed,  furthermore,  as  a  crowning  excel- 
lence a  real  passion  for  saving  souls.  "It  was 
Baxter's  meat  and  drink,"  says  Dr.  Bates,  his 
eulogist,  "the  life  and  joy  of  his  life,  to  do  good  to 
souls."  Not  Whitefield,  nor  Wesley,  nor  the  most 
ardent  for  evangelistic  conquests  in  the  ministry  of 
later  times,  surpasses  Baxter  in  this  quality.  This 
was  his  chief  distinction  as  a  preacher  and  gave 
efficacy  to  all  his  gifts,  his  persuasive  voice,  his 
countenance,  his  powers  of  reasoning,  his  rare 
felicity  of  language,  his  rich  religious  experience,  his 
spirituality. 

Possessing  these  remarkable  qualifications  for 
preaching,  no  doubt  he  preached  at  times  with  great 
eloquence.  The  proof  of  it  is  still  perceivable  in  his 
published  works  and  sermons.  They  abound  in 
passages  which  no  one  can  read  unmoved.  If 
printed  discourses,  two  hundred  and  fifty  years  after 
they  were  uttered,  contain  such  subtle  fire,  able  to 
kindle  a  cold  reader  to  spiritual  fervor,  what  must 
have  been  the  flame  that  burned  upon  his  tongue  .^^ 
It  was  an  eloquence  that  attracted  and  impressed  all 
classes,  educated  men  and  substantial  citizens, 
likewise  the  humblest  and  poorest.  "My  public 
preaching,"  he  says,  "met  with  an  attentive,  dihgent 
auditory.  The  congregation  was  usually  full,  so 
that  we  were  fain  to  build  five  galleries  after  my 
coming,  the  church  being  the  most  commodious  that 
ever  I  was  in."  It  produced  an  immediate  good 
effect  upon  the  life  of  the  community.     "On  the 

119 


NINE  GREAT  PREACHERS 

Lord's  days  there  was  no  disorder  to  be  seen  in  the  ] 

streets,   but   you   might   hear   a   hundred   famihes  { 

singing  psalms  and  repeating  sermons  as  you  passed  i 

them."  I 

i 

Interruption  of  Work  by  the  Civil  War  \ 

The  breaking  out  of  the  Civil  War,  in  a  year  or  two 
after  his  advent  to  the  town,  interrupted  the  good 

work  so  well  begun  in  Kidderminster.     Through  the  \ 

powerful  influence  of  certain  royalist  families  the  j 

town  took  the  side  of  the  king;  but  Baxter,  though  ! 

a  zealous  churchman  and  loyal  to  the  royal  family,  ! 

was  suspected  of  sympathizing  with  the   Puritan  \ 

party  in  the  conflict  because  of  the  more  obvious  | 
harmony  of  his  religious  opinions  and  practice  with 

theirs,  and  he  was  publicly  denounced  as  a  traitor,  ; 
and  threatened  with  violence  by  the  vicious  and 
turbulent  spirits  of  the  town  whose  sins  he  reproved. 

At  the  entreaty  of  his  friends  he  accordingly  left  the  j 

place  and  took  refuge  in  the  walled  town  of  Coventry,  ' 

where  for  two  years  he  labored  diligently,  preaching  i 
twice  weekly  to  the  people  and  the  soldiers, — "  taking 
nothing  from  either  but  his  diet"  for  his  service. 
"Like  men  in  a  dry  house  who  hear  the  storms 
abroad,"  he  and  his  friends  there  heard  the  dreadful 

rumors  and  sounds  of  the  raging  conflict.     One  day  \ 

while  he  was  preaching  he  heard  the  cannonading  of  j 

the  battle  of  Naseby.     At  length  he  was  induced  to  i 
become  the  chaplain  of  Whalley's  regiment  in  the 

Parliamentary  army  and  followed  it  fearlessly  into  j 

many  a  hard  battle  and  desperate  siege,  marching  \ 

no  i 


RICHARD  BAXTER 

Bible  in  hand  with  Cromwell  himself  to  the  storming 
of  Basing  House. 

Baxter  figured  during  the  war  in  other  scenes  not 
quite  so  heroic  though  showing  an  equal  stoutness 
of  heart.  The  Parliamentary  army  abounded  in 
enthusiasts  and  sectaries  of  every  stripe,  who  were 
as  ready  for  a  theological  tilt  with  opposers  as  for  a 
battle  with  cavaliers.  Baxter  feeling  it  incumbent 
on  him  to  defend  the  faith  and  to  expose  error — ^he 
could  not  sit  still  and  keep  silent  when  what  he 
deemed  dangerous  heresy  was  being  promulgated 
— never  failed  to  improve  any  opportunity  offered 
to  encounter  these  men  in  argument.  So  whenever, 
for  the  sake  of  making  converts  to  their  opinions, 
they  appointed  a  public  meeting  in  any  place,  he 
would  go  to  it  and  talk  them  down.  One  instance 
is  described  by  him.  "A  cornet  and  troopers  of 
Pitchf  ord's  regiment  appointed  a  meeting  in  a  certain 
church.  I  thought  it  my  duty  to  be  there  also.  I 
found  a  crowded  congregation  of  poor,  well-meaning 
people  who  came  in  the  simplicity  of  their  hearts  to  be 
deceived.  I  took  the  reading  desk,  and  the  troopers 
took  the  gallery,  and  I  alone  disputed  against  them 
from  morning  until  almost  night.  If  I  had  but  gone 
out  first,  they  would  have  prated  what  boastful  words 
they  listed,  and  made  the  people  believe  that  they 
had  got  the  best  of  it.  Therefore  I  stayed  it  out 
until  they  first  rose  and  went  away.  The  crazy 
babblers  were  so  discouraged  that  they  never  met 
there  again.  But,  oh,  the  abundance  of  nonsense 
they  uttered  that  day!"  He  did  not  suppose,  how- 
ever, that  he  had   confuted  them.     "There  is  no 

121 


NINE  GREAT  PREACHERS 

confuting  a  man  tliat  saith  nothing,"  he  dryly 
remarks.  "Nonsense  is  unanswerable,  if  thou  hast 
enough  of  it." 

Opposition  to  Cromwell 

It  is  said  of  Baxter  that  "he  feared  no  man's 
displeasure  and  hoped  for  no  man's  preferment." 
His  attitude  toward  Cromwell  proves  this.  It  was 
an  attitude  of  mingled  respect  and  disapproval. 
He  respected  him  for  his  prowess  and  military  genius 
which  were  attended  with  such  constant  success,  and 
for  his  Christian  character  and  devption  to  the 
interests  of  religion,  by  reason  of  which  he  says: 
"Godliness  had  countenance  and  reputation,  also, 
as  well  as  liberty;  whereas  before  it  was  the  way  of 
common  shame  and  ruin."  It  was  this  personal 
regard  for  Cromwell's  character  and  work  that  had 
drawn  Baxter  to  the  Puritan  camp  and  its  service  as 
chaplain.  But  he  remained  all  the  time  unalterably 
opposed  to  Cromwell's  ambition  to  rule,  and  fear- 
lessly criticized  his  usurpation  of  political  power  and 
authority.  He  went  so  far  in  his  opposition  as  to 
think  seriously,  at  one  time,  of  trying  to  get  up  a 
counter  movement  to  Cromwell's  ambitious  policy. 
Fortunately  for  him,  he  was  stopped  in  his  endeavor 
by  illness.  Cromwell  would  certainly  have  arrested 
him  with  an  iron  hand,  and  Pitchford's  troopers 
would  have  been  found  only  too  willing  to  silence 
with  their  muskets  the  irrepressible  man  that  had 
baffled  their  tongues.  Having  been  given  the 
opportunity,  later,  to  preach  before  Cromwell,  when 

122 


RICHARD  BAXTER 

Protector,  Baxter  preached  on  1  Cor.  1:10,  against 
the  divisions  and  distractions  of  the  Church,  and, 
intending  to  rebuke  him  for  what  he  beheved  his 
sin,  showed  "how  mischievous  a  thing  it  was  for 
poHticians  to  maintain  such  divisions  for  their  own 
ends,  that  they  might  fish  in  troubled  waters." 
"My  plainness,"  says  Baxter,  "I  heard  was  dis- 
pleasing to  him  and  his  courtiers,  but  they  put  up 
with  it."  Soon  after  that  sermon  Cromwell  sent  for 
Baxter,  once  and  again,  for  interviews  with  him, 
with  the  aim  to  vindicate  himself  from  his  charges 
and  disarm  his  hostility,  but  without  apparent  effect. 
*'He  began  a  long  and  tedious  speech  to  me,"  says 
Baxter,  "of  God's  providence  in  the  change  of  the 
government  and  how  God  had  owned  it.  .  .  . 
But  I  told  him  that  we  took  our  ancient  monarchy 
to  be  a  blessing  and  not  an  evil  to  the  land;  and 
humbly  craved  his  patience  that  I  might  ask  him 
how  England  had  ever  forfeited  that  blessing,  and 
unto  whom  that  forfeiture  was  made." 

"A  few  days  after  he  sent  for  me  again  to  hear  my 
judgment  about  liberty  of  conscience  (which  he 
pretended  to  be  most  zealous  for)  before  almost  all 
his  privy  council;  where,  after  another  slow  tedious 
speech  of  his,  I  told  him  a  little  of  my  judgment. 
.  .  .  I  saw  that  what  he  learned  must  be  from 
himself,  being  more  disposed  to  speak  many  hours 
than  to  hear  one,  and  little  heeding  what  another 
said  when  he  had  spoken  himself."  This  is  a  shrewd 
criticism  of  Cromwell's  character.  Baxter's  con- 
temporaries would  have  said,  probably,  that  it  was 
equally  true  of  Baxter  himself. 

123 


NINE   GREAT  PREACHERS 

He  was  hardly  just  at  this  time  in  his  estimate  of 
the  Protector  and  his  policy.  Cromwell  understood 
then  the  doctrine  of  religious  liberty  better  than 
Baxter  did,  and  he  was  not  actuated  wholly  by 
selfish  ambition  as  his  critics  affirmed,  but  largely 
by  a  sincere  regard  for  England's  welfare.  His 
patience  with  Baxter  showed  great  magnanimity. 
"Had  Baxter,"  says  Orme,  "used  the  same  freedom 
with  the  royal  successors  of  Cromwell  which  he  used 
with  him  he  would  most  probably  have  lost  his  head." 
In  what  he  said  and  did  he  displayed  indeed  a  fearless 
courage  and  he  acted  from  conscientious  motives, 
which  was  admirable;  but  we  cannot  give  him  credit 
for  wisdom  and  prudence.  He  himself  confessed 
as  much  afterwards.  In  his  "Penitent  Confessions," 
Baxter  says:  "I  am  in  great  doubt  how  far  I  did  well 
or  ill  in  my  opposition  to  Cromwell ;  whether  I  should 
not  have  been  more  passive  and  silent  than  I  was." 

His  Return  to  His  Work  in  Kidderminster 

A  sickness,  by  which  he  was  brought  nigh  to  death, 
and  his  dissatisfaction  with  the  course  of  things, 
led  to  his  severance  of  his  connection  with  the  Puri- 
tan army  and  his  return  to  Kidderminster,  at  the 
almost  unanimous  entreaty  of  his  flock,  after  an 
absence  of  four  years.  Those  four  years,  with  the 
exciting  experiences  that  filled  them,  are  to  be  looked 
upon  simply  as  an  interesting  episode  in  Baxter's 
ministry  there.  The  sad  things  he  had  witnessed, 
the  waste  and  ruin  and  tragic  incidents  of  the  war, 
served  to  intensify  his  earnestness  and  spur  him  on 


RICHARD  BAXTER 

to  greater  diligence  and  activity  in  his  work.  His 
preaching  reflected  the  deeper  earnestness  of  his 
spirit  and  rose  to  a  higher  pitch  of  eloquence.  For 
the  space  of  fourteen  years,  from  1646  to  1660,  he 
now  labors  there  in  Kidderminster  as  a  preacher  of 
the  gospel  with  unsurpassed  zeal.  "Of  all  the 
admirable  preachers,"  says  Davies,  his  biographer, 
"  who  have  influenced  the  religious  life  of  the  English 
people,  Baxter  unquestionably  has  the  preeminence. 
No  one  has  so  convincingly  reasoned  in  the  pulpit  as 
he,  so  powerfully  urged,  so  effectively  taught  and 
moved  the  conscience  to  right  decision." 

His  Successful  Method  in  the  Cure  of  Souls 

Baxter's  ministry  in  Kidderminster  was  also 
remarkable  for  the  success  with  which  he  united  in  it 
the  pastoral  work  of  family  visitation  and  private 
religious  conversation  with  his  public  preaching. 
His  passion  for  souls  did  not  stop  with  the  labors  of 
the  pulpit,  nor  did  his  conception  of  the  duties  of  the 
minister  limit  his  efforts  for  their  spiritual  welfare 
to  such  preaching.  Both  his  love  of  souls  and  his 
conception  of  what  is  due  from  the  minister  to  his 
flock,  constrained  him  to  labors  outside  the  pulpit 
for  their  benefit.  He  says:  "We  should  know  every 
person  that  belongs  to  our  charge;  for  how  can  we 
*take  heed  to  the  flock  of  God,'  if  we  do  not  know 
them.f^  Does  not  a  careful  shepherd  look  after  every 
individual  sheep,  and  a  good  physician  attend  every 
particular  patient .^^  Why  then  should  not  the 
shepherds  and  the  physicians  of  the  church  take  heed 

125 


NINE  GREAT  PREACHERS 

to  every  member  of  their  charge?  Apostolic  example 
and  precept  urge  this.  Paul  taught  the  people 
publicly  and  from  house  to  house,  Varned  every 
man  and  taught  every  man  that  he  might  present 
every  man  perfect  in  Christ  Jesus';  and  he  charges 
ministers  of  the  gospel  to  *  watch  for  souls  as  those 
that  must  give  an  account.'  "  The  superior  effect- 
iveness of  "this  private  way  of  preaching"  especially 
recommends  it,  he  asserts.  "  One  word  of  seasonable 
advice  has  done  that  good  which  many  sermons  have 
failed  of  doing.  .  .  .  Yea,  I  have  found  that  an 
ignorant  sot,  who  for  a  long  time  had  been  an 
unprofitable  hearer,  has  got  more  knowledge  and 
remorse  of  conscience  in  half  an  hour's  close  conver- 
sation than  he  did  by  ten  years'  public  preaching." 

The  reasons  why  this  private,  personal  method  of 
dealing  with  individual  souls  was  so  effective,  are  by 
him  thus  stated: 

"We  have  the  best  opportunity  to  imprint  religious 
truth  upon  the  heart  when  we  can  speak  to  each 
one's  particular  necessity,  i.e.,  his  particular  case, 
and  address  him  in  regard  to  it  with  familiar  impor- 
tunity. 

"By  this  means  you  will  hear  their  objections, 
and  discover  what  it  is  that  resists  the  truth,  and  so 
may  be  the  more  able  effectually  to  convince  them. 
We  can  here  answer  their  objections,  drive  them  to 
a  stand,  urge  them  to  discover  their  purposes  for  the 
future,  and  to  promise  to  use  the  means  of  reforma- 
tion. 

"In  private  we  may  speak  in  a  much  plainer  man- 
ner than  we  can  in  public.     In  public  we  cannot  use 

126 


RICHARD  BAXTER 

such  homely  expressions  nor  so  many  repetitions  as 
their  dullness  requires,  but  in  private  we  may. 

"In  public  our  speeches  are  long,  we  quite  overrun 
their  understandings  and  their  memories,  so  that  we 
lose  their  attention,  and  they  know  not  what  we  have 
been  saying;  but  in  private  we  may  take  our  hearers 
with  us  as  we  go,  we  have  them  as  interlocutors  in 
what  is  said,  and  easily  hold  their  attention." 

It  was  not  until  after  some  years  that  he  undertook 
this  private  work.  "My  apprehensions  of  it  were 
too  small  and  of  the  difficulties  too  great.  I  thought 
that  the  people  would  scorn  it  and  that  only  a  few 
would  submit  to  it.  The  work  seemed  strange  to 
me  and  I  thought  my  strength  would  never  go 
through  it."  Having  ventured,  however,  upon  the 
experiment,  the  success  of  it  more  than  met  his 
expectations.  "I  find  the  difficulties,"  he  says, 
"to  be  nothing  to  what  I  imagined,  and  I  experience 
the  benefits  and  comforts  of  the  work  to  be  such  that 
I  would  not  wish  to  have  neglected  it  for  all  the 
riches  in  the  world.  I  cannot  say  that  one  family 
hath  refused  or  that  many  persons  have  shifted  it 
off.  I  wonder  at  myself  that  I  kept  from  so  clear 
and  excellent  a  duty  so  long.  We  never  took  the 
rightest  course  to  demolish  the  Kingdom  of  Darkness 
till  now."  His  rule  was  to  "take  each  person  alone 
and  discourse  with  him  privately.  I  find  by  experi- 
ence that  in  general  people  will  bear  plain  and  close 
dealing  about  their  sin  and  their  duty  when  you  have 
them  alone  better  than  when  others  are  present." 

His  passion  for  saving  souls  prompted  him  to  take 
another  forward  step  with  a  view  to  pressing  the 

U7 


NINE  GREAT  PREACHERS 

truth  home  upon  every  individual  in  his  parish;  he 
invited  the  more  devout  and  intelligent  Christians 
of  the  Church  to  cooperate  in  the  effort  with  him, 
saying:  "The  good  work  is  likely  to  go  on  but  poorly 
if  none  but  ministers  are  employed  in  it."  In  this 
he  anticipated  by  one  hundred  years  the  ideas  and 
opinions  of  John  Wesley  in  regard  to  the  importance 
and  value  of  lay  activity  in  the  Church.  He  antici- 
pated Wesley  also  in  adopting  the  conference  and 
prayer  meeting  as  an  evangelizing  agency  and  a 
means  of  the  development  of  Christians  through  the 
exercise  of  their  gifts.  He  testifies  that  "many  of 
them  were  able  to  pray  very  laudably  with  others, 
while  the  temper  of  their  minds  and  the  innocency  of 
their  lives  was  more  loud  than  their  parts."  Such 
meetings,  usually  held  weekly,  Baxter  caused  to  be 
started  and  maintained  in  different  parts  of  his 
parish;  they  formed  a  part  of  the  net  which  he  spread 
for  souls  in  Kidderminster,  whereby  he  sought  to 
catch  as  many  for  Christ  as  possible. 

We  have  dwelt  at  this  length  upon  the  manner 
in  which  Baxter  fulfilled  his  pastoral  function, 
because  it  forms  an  essential  part  of  his  ministerial 
work  in  Kidderminster.  Without  it  he  could  not 
have  accomplished  the  remarkable  work  he  wrought 
there,  a  work  so  great  that  it  transformed  the  moral 
and  religious  character  of  the  town  and  gave  it,  as 
Stanley  says,  "a  world-wide  fame."  "When  I  first 
came  there,"  he  says,  "there  was  about  one  family 
in  a  street  that  worshipped  God;  when  I  came  away 
there  were  some  streets  where  there  was  not  one 
family  that  did  not  so,  and  that  did  not  by  professing 

128 


RICHARD  BAXTER 

serious  godliness  give  in  hopes  of  their  sincerity. 
In  those  families  which  were  the  worst — those  of 
inns  and  alehouses — usually  some  persons  in  each 
house  did  seem  to  be  religious.  If  not  the  elders, 
their  children;  and  then  the  elders  were  made  more 
kindly  disposed  because  of  the  children.  Many 
children  did  God  work  upon  at  fourteen  or  fifteen 
or  sixteen  years  of  age.  This  did  marvelously 
reconcile  the  minds  of  the  parents  to  godliness,  and 
they  that  before  talked  against  godliness  would  not 
hear  it  spoken  against  when  it  was  their  children's 
case." 

The  Reformed  Pastor 

Another  result  of  his  pastoral  work  of  visitation 
for  religious  conversation  with  individuals  should 
be  mentioned.  It  led  to  the  writing  by  him  of  "The 
Reformed  Pastor,"  in  which  he  describes  the  work 
undertaken  for  the  spiritual  benefit  of  his  flock,  its 
method  and  success,  that  other  ministers  might  be 
stimulated  and  encouraged  to  undertake  a  similar 
work  for  their  people.  From  that  book  we  have 
derived  our  account  of  what  he  did  in  this  particular 
line  in  the  "Cure  of  Souls."  "It  prevailed  with 
many  ministers,"  he  says,  "to  set  upon  that  work 
which  I  there  exhort  them  to.  Churches  either  rise 
or  fall  as  the  ministry  doth  rise  or  fall." 

This  book,  by  reason  of  its  "thoughts  that  breathe 
and  words  that  burn,"  and  its  great  influence  upon 
subsequent  generations  of  ministers,  is  one  of  the 
most  notable  in  the  religious  literature  of  the  world. 
Dr.  Philip  Doddridge  speaks  of  it  as  "a  most  extra- 

9  129 


NINE  GREAT  PREACHERS 

ordinary  performance,"  and  asserts  that  "nothing 
would  have  a  greater  tendency  to  awaken  the  spirit 
of  a  minister  to  that  zeal  in  his  work,  for  want  of 
which  many  good  men  are  but  shadows  of  what  by 
the  blessing  of  God  they  might  be  if  the  maxims  and 
measures  laid  down  in  this  incomparable  treatise 
were  strenuously  pursued."  It  is  a  book  of  undecay- 
ing  vitality  and,  consequently,  of  perennial  value. 
In  this  belief,  the  founder  of  Wellesley  College, 
Mr.  Henry  C.  Durant,  in  his  awakened  zeal  for  the 
spread  of  religion,  bought  up  a  large  number  of  them 
for  distribution  among  the  ministers  of  Massachu- 
setts, to  the  great  spiritual  profit,  no  doubt,  of 
those  ministers  and  their  congregations. 

Baxter's  Published  Works 

Boswell  once  asked  Dr.  Johnson  which  of  Baxter's 
works  he  recommended  him  to  read.  "Read  any 
of  them,"  he  replied,  "they  are  all  good."  This, 
however,  was  a  careless  answer.  Baxter's  works 
are  not  all  good,  nor  is  any  one  of  them  equally  good 
throughout.  If  there  were  no  other  reason,  he 
wrote  too  much  for  uniform  excellence.  His  pub- 
lished works  numbered  more  than  170  volumes. 
Besides  this,  many  of  them,  being  controversial  and 
upon  questions  no  longer  living,  would  now  be  to 
any  one  but  a  church  historian  dull  and  unprofitable 
stuff  to  read.  He  often  began  a  controversy  in  his 
young  manhood  without  sufficient  consideration, 
and  was  forced  later  to  shift  his  ground,  and  so  fell 
into  self-contradictions  and  glaring  inconsistencies, 

130 


RICHARD  BAXTER 

which  his  opponents  pointed  out  to  his  discomfiture. 
One  of  them  compiled  a  volume  composed  of  the 
irreconcilable  utterances  discoverable  in  Baxter's 
works,  and  entitled  it  "A  Dialogue  between  Richard 
and  Baxter."  Bishop  Burnet  truly  says,  he  "med- 
dled in  too  many  things,"  and  "was  most  unhappily 
subtle  and  metaphysical  in  everything."  But  what- 
ever may  be  the  contradictions  and  unprofitable 
stuff  found  in  any  work,  such  were  the  genius  and 
piety  of  the  man  that,  as  Dean  Stanley  says  "there 
run  through  it  golden  threads  and  solid  strands  which 
redeem  'it  from  ignominy,  and  at  times  are  woven 
into  patches  and  fringes  of  glorious  splendor." 

In  his  old  age  he  confessed  as  a  fault  the  con- 
troversial propensity  and  errors  displayed  by  him 
in  earlier  years  and  thus  explains  how  it  happened: 
"To  tell  the  truth,  while  I  busily  read  what  other 
men  said  in  these  controversies,  my  mind  was  so 
prepossessed  with  their  notions  that  I  could  not 
possibly  see  the  truth  in  its  own  native  and  naked 
evidence;  and  when  I  entered  into  public  disputations 
concerning  it,  though  I  was  truly  willing  to  know  the 
truth,  my  mind  was  so  forestalled  with  borrowed 
notions  that  I  chiefly  studied  how  to  make  good  the 
opinions  I  had  received,  and  ran  farther  from  the 
truth.  Yea,  when  I  read  the  truth  in  Dr.  Preston's 
and  other  men's  writings  I  did  not  consider  and 
understand  it,  and  when  I  heard  it  from  them  whom 
I  opposed  in  wrangling  disputations,  or  read  it  in 
books  of  controversy,  I  discerned  it  least  of  all;  till 
at  last  being  in  my  sickness  cast  far  from  home,  where 
I  had  no  book  but  my  Bible,  I  set  to  study  the  truth 

131 


NINE  GREAT  PREACHERS 

from  thence  and  so  by  the  blessing  of  God  discovered 
more  in  one  week  than  I  had  done  before  in  seven- 
teen years'  reading,  hearing  and  wrangHng." 

His  Practical  Works 

Baxter's  great  merit  as  an  author  rests  chiefly 
upon  his  practical  works.  The  most  notable  of  these, 
besides  the  "Reformed  Pastor"  are:  'The  Saint's 
Rest,"  "A  Call  to  the  Unconverted,"  "Reasons 
for  the  Christian  Religion,"  "The  Right  Method 
for  a  Settled  Peace  of  Conscience,"  "The  Cru- 
cifixion of  the  World  by  the  Cross  of  Christ," 
"Dying  Thoughts,"  and  "Reliquae  Baxterianae" 
— "Baxter's  Narrative  of  his  Life  and  Times."  The 
"Saint's  Rest"  was  his  first  as  well  as  most  widely 
known  book.  It  was  written  in  his  thirty  fourth 
year,  when  "sentenced  to  death"  by  his  physicians. 
Its  design  was  to  be  "a  directory  for  getting  and  keep- 
ing the  heart  in  heaven  by  heavenly  meditation," 
and  he  put  into  it  such  directions  as  he  had  found 
good  for  himself  when  expecting  soon  to  die.  Books 
of  this  kind,  in  which  are  distilled  the  heart's  real 
experiences  and  which,  as  John  Milton  says,  "pre- 
serve as  in  a  vial  the  purest  efiicacy  and  extraction 
of  the  living  intellect  that  bred  them,"  touch  men 
most  deeply  and  live  long.  The  "Saint's  Rest"  is, 
therefore,  still  a  live  book.  So  likewise  are  his  other 
practical  writings  that  have  been  mentioned.  Their 
thoughts  are  good  for  all  time,  and  expressed  in  a 
remarkable  style.  "There  reigns  in  it,"  as  Arch- 
bishop Trench  says,  "a  robust  and  masculine  elo- 

132 


RICHARD  BAXTER 

quence,  nor  does  it  want  from  time  to  time  rare  and 
unsought  felicity  of  language,  which  once  heard  Can 
scarcely  be  forgotten."  These  words  of  Trench 
concerning  Baxter's  style,  "rare  and  unsought  felicity 
of  language,"  express  the  literal  truth  about  it.  It 
was  "rare,"  but  not,  like  the  style  of  Cardinal  New- 
man and  Stevenson,  the  result  of  painstaking  toil 
and  long  effort.  Its  "felicity"  was  "unsought";  it 
was  natural  to  him,  the  unstudied  manner  in  which 
his  thought  expressed  itself.  "Probably,"  says  one 
of  his  admirers,  "he  never  consumed  forty  minutes 
in  as  many  years  in  the  mere  selection  and  adjust- 
ment of  words."  And  Baxter  himself  says  of  his 
published  writings:  "I  scarce  ever  wrote  one  sheet 
twice  over,  nor  stayed  to  make  any  blots  or  inter- 
lineations, but  would  fain  let  it  go  as  it  was  first  con- 
ceived." His  earnest  mind  in  its  expression  of  the 
good  thoughts  within  him  chose  instinctively  the 
right  language,  such  language  as  most  aptly  and 
happily  clothed  what  he  wanted  to  say. 

It  must  be  confessed,  however,  that  all  his  practical 
writings  have  one  obvious  fault,  that  of  redundancy 
of  thought,  not  of  language.  Though  Isaac  Barrow 
affirms  that  "they  were  never  mended,"  the  affirma- 
tion is  not  strictly  true.  They  have  been  really 
improved  and  made  more  readable  by  considerable 
abridgment.  It  is  the  fault  of  an  affluent  mind  that 
from  its  fulness  overflows  to  excess.  But  in  every 
book  he  wrote  there  are  passages  that  are  remarkable 
for  their  conciseness,  force  and  beauty.  There  are 
gems  of  thought  on  almost  every  page,  which  enrich 
the  unprofitable   stuff,   as   the   diamonds  the  blue 

X33 


NINE  GREAT  PREACHERS 

ground  in  the  South  African  mines,  in  which  they 
lie  embedded.  Take  the  following  examples :  "  When 
half  is  unknown,  the  other  half  is  not  half  known. ^^ 
*'  Truth  is  so  dear  a  friend,  and  he  that  sent  it  is  so 
much  more  dear,  that  whatever  I  suffer  I  dare  not  stifle 
or  conceal  it.''  "  The  melody  of  music  is  better  known 
by  hearing  it  than  by  reports  of  it.  So  there  is  a  latent 
sense  in  us  of  the  effects  of  the  gospel  in  our  hearts, 
which  will  ever  cause  us  to  love  it  and  to  hold  it  fast.'' 

Baxter's  Work  after  the  Restoration  of  the 
Monarchy 

At  the  Restoration,  Baxter,  because  of  his  promi- 
nence in  England  as  a  clergyman  and  religious 
writer,  and  his  great  influence  among  the  Dissenters 
and  Moderate  Churchmen,  was  invited  to  take  a 
leading  part  in  the  consideration  and  discussion  of 
some  of  the  questions  which  then  engaged  the  atten- 
tion of  the  nation,  the  king  and  his  court.  Holding 
a  foremost  place  among  these  questions  was,  whether 
concessions  should  be  made  and  pains  taken  to  gain 
the  Dissenters  or  not,  especially  the  Presbyterians, 
to  representatives  of  whom  the  king  at  Breda,  before 
his  return  to  England,  had  promised  that  if  restored 
to  the  throne  of  his  father  he  would  grant  "liberty 
and  consideration  for  tender  consciences,"  and  that 
"  no  man  should  be  molested  for  differences  of  opinion 
in  matters  of  religion."  Lord  Chancellor  Hyde,  the 
Earl  of  Clarendon,  was  apparently  for  concession, 
and.  Bishop  Burnet  says,  "got  the  king  to  publish 
a  declaration,  soon  after  his  restoration,  concerning 

134 


RICHARD  BAXTER 

ecclesiastical  affairs,  to  which  if  he  had  stood,  very 
probably  the  greatest  part  of  them  might  have  been 
gained.  But  the  bishops  did  not  approve  of  this, 
.  .  .  and  instead  of  using  methods  to  bring  in 
these  sectaries,  they  resolved  rather  to  seek  the  most 
effectual  ones  for  casting  them  out." 

The  bishops  managed,  by  rekindling  the  animosi- 
ties produced  by  the  Civil  War,  and  by  infusing  into 
the  mind  of  the  king  distrust  of  the  loyalty  of  the 
Dissenters,  to  bring  over  the  king  to  their  side. 
Burnet  says  that  under  his  compliance,  however,  the 
king  concealed  the  design  of  favorable  legislation  for 
popery.  "  Nothing  could  make  toleration  for  popery 
pass  (he  thought)  but  the  having  great  bodies  of 
men  put  out  of  the  Church  and  put  under  severe 
laws,  which  should  force  them  to  move  for  a  tolera- 
tion and  should  make  it  reasonable  to  grant  it  to 
them.  And  it  was  resolved  that  whatever  should 
be  granted  of  that  sort  should  go  in  so  large  a  manner 
that  Papists  should  be  comprehended  in  it."  The 
King's  "Declaration"  was  no  doubt  shaped  by  this 
secret  purpose  and  was  less  moderate  and  concilia- 
tory than  had  been  anticipated.  "When  we  received 
this  copy  of  the  Declaration,"  says  Baxter,  "we  saw 
that  it  would  not  serve  to  heal  our  differences.  We 
therefore  told  the  Lord  Chancellor  that  our  endeavors 
as  to  concord  would  all  be  frustrated  if  much  were 
not  altered  in  the  Declaration."  Baxter  was  chosen 
to  put  their  objections  to  it  in  a  petition,  which  he 
wrote  with  his  usual  warmth  and  frankness.  When 
this  was  laid  before  his  associates,  "they  were 
troubled,"  says  Baxter,  "at  the  plainness  of  it.     It 

135, 


NINE  GREAT  PREACHERS 

was  not  my  unskillfulness  in  a  more  pleasing 
language,  but  my  reason  and  conscience  upon  fore- 
sight of  the  issue  which  were  the  cause."  He  refused 
to  alter  it,  until  "they  told  me  it  would  not  so  much 
as  be  received  and  that  I  must  go  with  it  myself,  for 
nobody  else  would."  The  petition,  as  altered,  was 
still  "ungrateful"  and  rejected  by  the  Lord  Chan- 
cellor. 

Finally,  after  considerable  more  parleying,  the 
following  course,  according  to  Baxter's  account 
(abridged),  was  decided  upon:  "A  day  was  appointed 
for  his  majesty  to  peruse  (in  their  presence)  the 
Declaration,  as  it  was  drawn  up  by  the  Lord  Chan- 
cellor, and  to  allow  what  he  liked,  and  alter  the  rest 
upon  the  hearing  of  what  both  sides  had  to  say." 

The  following  account  of  the  interview  of  the 
Nonconformists  with  the  king  is  given  by  Baxter: 
"The  business  of  the  day  was  not  to  dispute,  but  as 
the  Lord  Chancellor  read  over  the  'Declaration,'  each 
party  was  to  speak  to  what  it  disliked,  and  the  king 
to  determine  how  it  should  be,  as  he  liked  himself. 
.  The  great  matter  which  we  stopped  at  was 
the  word  'consent' (where  the  bishop  is  to  confirm 
by  the  'consent'  of  the  pastor  of  the  church).  .  .  . 
The  King  would  by  no  means  pass  the  word  'consent' 
either  then,  or  in  the  point  of  ordination,  or  censures ; 
because  it  gave  the  ministers  a  negative  voice  [thus 
limiting  the  bishop's  power  and  authority] .  I  insisted 
that,  though  'consent'  be  but  a  little  word,  it  was 
necessary  to  a  very  desirable  end,  union,  which  would 
not  be  attained  if  no  consent  were  allowed  ministers 
in  any  part  of  the  government  of  their  flocks. 

136 


RICHARD  BAXTER 

"The  most  of  the  time  being  spent  thus  in  speak- 
ing to  particulars  of  the  Declaration,  as  it  was  read, 
when  we  came  to  the  end,  the  Lord  Chancellor  drew 
out  another  paper  and  told  us  that  the  king  had  been 
petitioned  also  by  the  Independents  and  Anabaptists, 
and  though  he  knew  not  what  to  think  of  it  himself 
and  did  not  very  well  like  it,  yet  something  he  had 
drawn  up  which  he  would  read  to  us,  and  desire  us 
also  to  give  our  advice  about  it."  Thereupon  he 
read,  as  an  addition  to  the  declaration,  "that  others 
also  be  permitted  to  meet  for  religious  worship,  so  be 
it  they  do  it  not  to  the  disturbance  of  the  peace,  and 
that  no  justice  of  peace  or  officer  disturb  them!" 

Had  this  "addition"  been  promptly  accepted  by 
both  parties  and  incorporated  in  the  declaration, 
and  the  whole  at  once  enacted  into  the  law  of  the 
realm,  the  "union"  sought  would  have  been  achieved. 
But  after  the  reading  of  it,  "all  were  silent,"  says 
Baxter.  "The  Presbyterians  perceived,  as  soon  as 
they  heard  it,  that  it  would  secure  the  liberty  of 
the  Papists;  and  Dr.  WaUis  whispered  this  in  my 
ear,  but  entreated  me  to  'say  nothing,'  and  to  let 
the  bishops  speak  to  it.  But  the  bishops  would 
not  speak  a  word,  nor  any  one  of  the  Presbyterians. 
.  .  .  I  knew,  if  we  consented  to  it,  it  would  be 
charged  on  us  that  we  spoke  for  a  toleration  of 
Papists  and  Sectaries;  and  if  we  spoke  against  it, 
all  sects  and  parties  would  be  set  against  us  as  the 
causers  of  their  sufferings.  At  last,  seeing  the  silence 
continue,  I  thought  our  very  silence  would  be 
charged  on  us  as  consent,  if  it  went  on,  and  therefore, 
I  said  only  this:  "This  reverend  brother  (pointing 

137 


NINE   GREAT  PREACHERS 

to  Dr.  Gunning,  a  leader  of  the  Episcopal  party) 
even  now  speaking  against  the  sects,  named  the 
Papists  and  the  Socinians;  for  our  parts  we  desired 
not  favor  to  ourselves  alone,  and  rigorous  severity 
we  desired  against  none;  but  we  distinguished  the 
tolerable  parties  from  the  intolerable.  For  the 
latter,  such  as  the  two  sorts  named  by  that  reverend 
brother,  for  our  parts,  we  could  not  make  their 
toleration  our  request." 

It  was  one  of  the  faults  of  Baxter  that  he  was  not 
always  self-consistent  in  what  he  said  and  did.  We 
have  here  a  notable  instance.  Previously,  in  the 
days  of  Cromwell's  protectorate,  he  was  on  the  com- 
mittee to  settle  the  fundamentals  of  religion  as  a 
basis  of  toleration  and  religious  liberty,  and  what 
he  then  proposed  as  fundamental  was  objected  to  as 
something  "  which  might  be  subscribed  by  a  Papist  or 
Socinian."  ''So  much  the  better,''  was  Baxter's  reply, 
"  and  so  much  the  fitter  it  is  to  be  the  matter  of  concord.'' 
At  the  time  of  the  conference  with  the  king  and 
Clarendon  he  was  probably  of  the  same  opinion  still, 
though  what  he  now  said  in  objection  to  "the 
addition"  seemed  opposed  to  the  former  opinion. 
The  explanation  of  it  is,  that  he  volunteered  at  this 
time  to  speak  for  the  Presbyterian  members  of  the  con- 
ference, rather  than  for  himself.  As  we  look  back 
upon  it,  the  objection  thus  prompted  was  ill-timed 
and  most  unfortunate,  defeating  the  cause  of  tolera- 
tion and  religious  liberty  most  dear  to  his  heart. 
If  Baxter,  always  too  forward  to  speak,  had  restrained 
his  tongue  on  this  occasion  with  the  rest,  the  religious 
toleration,  not  only  of  the  Papists,  which  the  king 

138 


RICHARD  BAXTER 

desired,  but  of  all  the  Nonconformist  bodies,  Presby- 
terians, Independents,  Anabaptists,  Quakers  and 
Socinians  (tolerance  of  which  the  Episcopalians 
opposed),  would  have  been  then  and  there  secured. 
Why  did  he  not  say  "Yes"?  Because  he  did  not 
now  openly  avow  his  former  opinion  undisturbed  by 
the  disapproval  which  he  read  on  the  faces  of  those 
about  him.  "I  should  as  willingly  be  a  martyr  for 
charity  as  for  faith,"  is  one  of  his  famous  sentences. 
It  is  a  pity  that  this  sentiment  did  not  fortify  his 
resolution  at  that  moment.  But  the  intolerant 
atmosphere  he  breathed  may  have  clouded  at  the 
time  his  spirit, — or  he  may  not  have  reached  the 
positive  conviction  of  his  later  years.  Why  did  not 
the  Presbyterians  say  *'  Yes' '  ?  Because  John  Knox's 
hatred  of  popery  was  still  felt  by  them.  Why  did 
not  the  bishops  say  "Yes,"  and  avoid  the  infamy  they 
incurred  by  the  "Act  of  Uniformity,"  the  "Test 
Acts,"  and  the  cruel  persecutions  they  relentlessly 
waged  against  the  Nonconformists  the  next  twenty 
five  years  .^  Because  they  remembered  the  persecu- 
tions of  the  Romish  Church  under  Mary  Tudor  a 
hundred  years  before,  and  shared  the  horror  of  the 
majority  of  the  English  people  for  the  papacy  on 
account  of  them;  a  horror  kept  alive  among  the 
English  people  by  Fox's  "Book  of  Martyrs,"  which 
with  his  Bible  John  Bunyan  carried  with  him  to  his 
prison,  and  the  reading  of  which  made  him  and  other 
sufferers  from  Episcopal  intolerance  prefer  to  endure 
these  sufferings  rather  than  purchase  religious  liberty 
by  extending  it  to  Papists.  The  dread  of  having 
their  land  come  again  under  the  dominion  of  the 

139 


NINE  GREAT  PREACHERS 

Romish  Church  haunted,  and  still  haunts,  the 
majority  of  the  people  of  Great  Britain  like  a  per- 
sistent nightmare. 

"When  I  went  out  from  the  meeting  I  went  out 
dejected,"  says  Baxter,  **  satisfied  that  the  form  of 
government  outlined  in  that  'Declaration'  would  not 
be  satisfactory,  because  the  pastors  had  no  govern- 
ment of  the  flocks." 

Before  it  was  published,  however,  it  was  so 
modified  through  the  influence  of  two  great  nobles, 
that  the  chief  objection  found  in  the  conference  over 
it  was  removed.  "The  word  'consenf  in  regard  to 
confirmation  and  the  sacrament  was  put  in,  though 
not  as  to  jurisdiction."  Because  of  this  concession 
Baxter  agreed  to  "do  his  best"  to  induce  all  to 
conform  according  to  the  terms  of  the  Declaration. 

To  strengthen  the  bond  which  held  him  but  slightly 
to  the  State  Church,  the  Lord  Chancellor  offered  him 
the  bishopric  of  Hereford,  which  he  declined. 

The  Savoy  Conference 

In  his  "Declaration"  the  king  had  intimated  that 
the  liturgy  of  the  Church  should  be  revised  and 
certain  alterations  adopted  to  meet  the  wishes  of  the 
Nonconformists.  In  fulfillment  of  this  promise  a 
commission  was  issued  under  the  great  seal  empower- 
ing chosen  representatives  of  both  sides  to  meet  for 
the  purpose.  The  Archbishop  of  York  and  twelve 
bishops  represented  the  Episcopal  side,  and  eleven 
Nonconformist  ministers,  of  whom  Baxter  was  one, 
the  other  side.     The  place  of  meeting  for  the  con- 

140 


RICHARD  BAXTER 

sideration  and  discussion  of  the  alterations  desired 
was  the  Savoy  palace,  the  official  residence  of  the 
bishop  of  London.  In  this  conference,  which  was 
limited  to  three  months  and  recognized  in  English 
history  as  singular  and  notable,  Baxter  was  the  pro- 
tagonist of  the  Nonconformist  party.  At  its  open- 
ing meeting  the  Bishop  of  London,  speaking  for  his 
side,  said,  as  Baxter  reports:  ''it  was  not  they  but 
we  (the  Nonconformists)  that  had  been  the  seekers 
of  this  Conference,  and  who  had  desired  alterations 
in  the  liturgy;  and  therefore  they  had  nothing  to  say 
or  do  till  we  had  brought  in  all  we  had  to  say  against 
it  in  writing,  and  all  the  additional  forms  and  altera- 
tions which  we  desired."  "I  was  wholly  of  his 
mind,"  says  Baxter,  "  and  prevailed  with  my  brethren 
to  consent.  We  accepted  of  the  task  which  they 
imposed  upon  us,  yet  so  as  to  bring  all  our  exceptions 
at  one  time,  and  all  our  additions  at  another  time." 

In  the  division  of  this  task,  the  companions  of 
Baxter  distributed  among  themselves  the  selection 
of  exceptions  to  the  Common  Prayer  Book,  and  he 
took  the  additions  or  new  forms  to  be  proposed. 
With  characteristic  energy  and  dispatch  he  per- 
formed his  work  in  a  fortnight,  and  finding  his 
brethren  still  toiling  over  theirs,  took  hold  and  helped 
them  with  a  paper  of  such  exceptions  as  occurred 
to  him. 

When  they  submitted  their  work  to  the  bishops, 
they  found  them  indisposed  to  accept  any  of  the 
changes  proposed,  and  ready  stoutly  to  defend 
liturgy  and  prayer  book,  as  if  it  were  a  profanation 
to  alter  them  in  any  particular,  though  after  the 

141 


NINE   GREAT  PREACHERS 

conference,  when  the  heat  of  their  joint  discussion 
was  over,  they  agreed  among  themselves  to  con- 
siderable additions  and  alterations. 

Bishop  Burnet  gives  an  interesting  contemporary 
view  of  the  conference.  He  says:  "The  two  men 
that  had  the  chief  management  of  the  debate  were 
the  most  unfit  to  heal  matters,  and  the  fittest  to 
widen  them  that  could  have  been  found.  Baxter  was 
the  opponent,  and  Gunning  (afterwards  made  bishop 
of  Ely)  was  respondent.  He  was  noted  for  a  special 
subtlety  of  arguing.  All  the  arts  of  sophistry  were 
made  use  of  by  him  on  all  occasions  in  as  confident  a 
manner  as  if  they  had  been  sound  reasoning.  Baxter 
and  he  spent  some  days  in  much  logical  arguing  to 
the  diversion  of  the  town,  who  thought  here  were  a 
couple  of  fencers  engaged  in  disputes  that  could 
never  be  brought  to  an  end,  or  have  any  good  effect." 

No  "good  effect,"  or  gain  to  religion,  or  to  the 
cause  of  truth  ever  resulted  from  such  a  discussion. 
Baxter  himself  learned  this,  later,  to  his  complete 
satisfaction,  and  describes  the  result  in  most  expres- 
sive language:  "7  have  perceived,''  he  says,  ''that 
nothing  so  much  hinder eth  the  reception  of  the  truth  as 
urging  it  on  men  with  too  harsh  importunity,  and  falling 
too  heavily  on  their  errors;  for  hereby  you  engage  their 
honor  in  the  business,  and  they  defend  their  errors  as 
themselves  and  stir  up  all  their  wit  and  ability  to  oppose 
you.  In  a  learning  way  men  are  ready  to  receive  the 
truth,  but  in  a  disputing  way,  they  come  armed  against 
it  with  prejudice  and  animosity.'' 

And  so  the  efforts  which  Baxter  and  his  Noncon- 
forming associates  made  for  the  religious  peace  and 

142 


RICHARD  BAXTER 

concord  of  their  torn  and  distracted  land,  and  from 
which  they  had  hoped  so  much,  ended  in  utter,  dis- 
astrous failure.  The  "Convocation"  soon  adopted 
additions  to  the  prayer  book  that  made  it  still  more 
repugnant  to  them,  and  Parliament  passed  an  Act  of 
Uniformity  with  new  forms  of  subscription  that  were 
far  harder  to  bear  than  the  old  ones  were.  The 
baleful  mischief  wrought  by  the  Act  to  the  civil  and 
religious  welfare  of  England  is  thus  candidly  stated 
by  that  eminent  churchman,  the  late  Professor 
Benjamin  Jowett,  Master  of  Balliol,  Cambridge; 
*'0n  August  22,  the  Nonconformist  ministers  (2000 
of  them)  were  finally  expelled  by  the  Act  of  Uniform- 
ity. That  was  the  greatest  misfortune  that  has 
ever  befallen  this  country,  a  misfortune  that  has 
never  been  retrieved.  For  it  has  made  two  nations 
of  us  instead  of  one,  in  politics,  in  religion,  almost  in 
our  notion  of  right  and  wrong;  it  arrayed  one  class 
of  society  permanently  against  another,  and  many 
of  the  political  difficulties  of  our  own  time  have  their 
origin  in  the  enmities  caused  by  the  rout  of  August 
22,  1662,  called  'Black  Bartholomew's  Day,'  which 
Baxter  vainly  strove  to  avert."* 

Baxter,  though  a  minister  of  the  Established 
Church  and  greatly  beloved  by  most  of  the  people 
of  his  parish  which  he  had  so  greatly  blessed  by  his 
ministry  and  exalted  to  a  place  of  lasting  honor 
among  the  parishes  of  the  Christian  world,  was 
deprived  by  the  ecclesiastical  authorities  of  his 
charge    in    Kidderminster.     His    offense    was    the 

*  Sennona,  Biographical  and  Miscellaneous,  by  Benjamin  Jowett — E.  P.  Button 
&  Co.,  Pub. 

143 


NINE  GREAT  PREACHERS 

unpardonable  one  in  the  eyes  of  the  restored  mon- 
archy and  the  ruhng  churchmen,  of  being  eminent 
for  piety  and  of  holding  the  religious  opinions  of  the 
discredited  Puritan  party,  that  had  ceased  from 
power  with  the  death  of  Cromwell,  and  of  earnestly 
reaffirming  the  doctrines  of  their  own  great  divines, 
Jeremy  Taylor  and  Chillingworth,  in  regard  to 
religious  toleration  and  liberty  of  conscience,  and  of 
having  endeavored  in  conference  with  them  to  get 
their  consent  to  have  these  doctrines  incorporated 
in  the  law  of  the  land  for  the  sake  of  its  peace  and 
the  religious  quiet  of  all.  On  this  account  his 
reasonable  request  to  be  formally  invested  by  the 
new  government  with  the  vicarship  of  the  town  was 
refused  and  he  was  practically  deposed,  after  two 
years,  from  the  ministry.  Though  the  most  powerful 
preacher  in  England,  he  was  forbidden  to  preach,  or 
minister  to  any  other  flock,  and  thus  doomed  to 
silence  for  nearly  the  remainder  of  his  days,  a  period 
of  about  thirty  years. 

For  this  exclusion  of  Baxter  from  his  minsterial 
work,  Morley,  his  diocesan  bishop,  was  chiefly 
responsible.  He  had  acquired  for  Baxter  an  implac- 
able dislike,  most  unchristian  and  indefensible,  from 
which  he  never  relented. 

And  because  of  Baxter's  prominence  in  the  religious 
world  he  was  ever  an  object  of  bitter  persecution. 
"When  I  sit  in  a  corner,"  he  says,  "and  meddle  with 
nobody  and  hope  the  world  will  forget  that  I  am 
alive,  court,  city  and  country  are  still  filled  with 
clamors  against  me."  No  unprejudiced,  fair-minded 
man  can  read  of  the  unjust  treatment  he  received 

144 


RICHARD  BAXTER 

from   court    and   prelates,    especially   from   Bishop 
Morley,  without  hot  indignation. 

But  God  gave  to  him  the  comfort  of  good  friends, 
among  whom  was  Sir  Matthew  Hale,  and  a  romantic 
consolation  in  the  shape  of  a  lovely  wife,  Margaret 
Charleton,  a  young  woman  of  beauty,  refinement,  and 
of  high  social  position,  who,  touched  by  his  wrongs 
and  reverencing  his  saintly  character,  delicately 
offered  herself  to  him  in  marriage,  to  be  the  sharer 
of  his  obloquy  and  the  comforter  of  his  heart  in  his 
affliction.  Her  friends  and  acquaintances  endeav- 
ored in  vain  to  turn  her  from  her  purpose.  They 
disparaged  him  as  a  man  of  ignoble  birth,  of  "a 
family  so  obscure  that  no  one  could  tell  whence  he 
came."  "True,"  she  replied,  "but  /  know  where  he  is^ 
going  and  I  want  to  go  with  him.''  "It  was  rung 
about  everywhere,"  says  Baxter,  "partly  as  a  won- 
der, partly  as  a  crime,  and  the  king's  marriage  was 
scarcely  more  talked  of  than  mine."  The  marriage 
proved  a  happy  one;  and  with  the  blessing  of  his 
wife's  society  and  love  he  found  it  easy  to  endure  the 
trials  of  ejectment  from  the  ministry  with  its  enforced 
silence  and  continued  persecution  in  addition  to  the 
misery  of  poor  health. 

Though  his  tongue  was  silenced  by  the  ban  put 
upon  his  preaching,  his  pen  continued  to  be  busy  in 
spite  of  his  poor  health.  Some  of  his  best  works, 
like  "Dying  Thoughts"  and  the  "Narrative  of  His 
Life,"  were  produced  in  this  period.  "The  Dying 
Thoughts,"  like  "The  Saint's  Rest,"  was  written  by 
him  primarily  for  his  own  use.  He  was  for  a  long 
time  "unresolved  whether  anyone  else  should  ever 

10  145 


NINE  GREAT  PREACHERS 

see  it."  He  finally  gave  it  to  a  publisher  in  iht 
hope  that  "the  same  thoughts  may  be  useful  to 
others  that  are  so  for  me.  If  those  men's  lives  were 
spent  in  serious  thoughts  of  death  who  are  now 
studying  to  destroy  each  other  and  tear  in  pieces  a 
distressed  land,  they  would  prevent  much  dolorous 
repentance."  The  "Dying  Thoughts"  contains  just 
such  thoughts,  expressed  in  Baxter's  best  style,  as 
are  appropriate  and  helpful  to  one  nearing  death,  or 
supposes  he  is,  because  of  failing  health.  They 
exhibit  the  calm  serenity  of  one  who  through  the 
power  of  the  gospel  is  able  to  contemplate  death 
not  only  with  composure  but  with  a  holy  joy.  The 
book  has  given  comfort  to  many  people  in  the  pros- 
pect of  death.  It  gave  consolation,  in  particular,  to 
the  celebrated  Lord  William  Russell  before  his  exe- 
cution, a  judicial  murder  in  the  reign  of  Charles  II. 
Some  of  the  works  of  Baxter,  written  at  this  time 
with  the  most  excellent  intention  of  promoting 
religious  harmony,  failed  sadly  of  their  purpose. 
Instead,  like  his  endeavors  at  the  Savoy  conference, 
they  drew  upon  him  a  more  bitter  and  determined 
hostility  and  much  savage  criticism  and  abuse. 
The  cause,  apparently,  was  his  unfortunate,  offensive 
manner  of  approaching  and  attacking  the  position 
of  opponents.  Orme,  his  biographer,  says — in  com- 
paring his  character  and  mode  of  discussion  with 
those  of  the  celebrated  Dr.  Owen — "Baxter  was 
sharp  and  cutting,  and  disposed  to  push  matters 
further  than  the  circumstances  of  the  times  admitted. 
The  deportment  of  Owen  was  bland  and  conciliating 
compared  with  that  of  Baxter.     Hence  Owen  fre- 

146 


RICHARD  BAXTER 

quently  made  friends  of  enemies,  while  Baxter  often 
made  enemies  of  friends." 

A  notable  illustration  of  this  is  found  in  his  famous 
controversy  with  Edward  Bagshaw,  a  former  friend 
and  champion  of  his  cause  against  Bishop  Morley, 
who  took  offense  at  a  book  published  by  Baxter, 
entitled  "A  Cure  for  Church  Divisions,"  which  Bag- 
shaw thought  reflected  too  severely  and  unjustly  upon 
some  Dissenters,  and  wrote  a  reply  to  it.  This  reply 
called  out  from  Baxter  a  rejoinder,  which  Bagshaw 
answered  with  "A  Defense."  This,  Baxter  hotly 
declared  to  be  "full  of  untruths  which  the  furious 
and  temerarious  man  did  utter  out  of  the  rashness  of 
his  mind."  This  drew  from  Baxter  "A  Second  Ad- 
monition" to  Mr.  Bagshaw,  "written  to  call  him  to 
repentance  for  many  false  doctrines  and  especially 
fourscore  palpable  untruths  in  matters  of  fact." 
Again  Bagshaw  replied  with  "A  Review:  All  of  Mr. 
Baxter's  Calumnies  Refuted,"  to  which  Baxter  fi- 
nally rejoined  with  "The  Church  told  of  Mr.  Ed- 
ward Bagshaw's  Scandal."  Of  this  last  rejoinder, 
Baxter  says:  "About  the  day  that  it  came  out,  Mr. 
Bagshaw  died  a  prisoner,  which  made  it  grevious  to 
me  to  think  that  I  must  seem  to  write  against  the 
dead";  and  then,  as  if  condemning  his  own  part  in 
the  controversy  as  utterly  futile  and  foolish,  he  adds : 
"While  we  wrangle  here  in  the  dark  we  are  dying 
and  passing  to  the  world  that  will  decide  all  our 
controversies;  and  the  safest  passage  thither  is  by 
peaceable  holiness." 

Doubtless  his  feeling  of  the  shocking  impropriety 
of  this  bitter  controversy,  in  view  of  its  sad  conclusion 

147 


NINE  GREAT  PREACHERS 

was  heightened  by  the  thought  that  Mr.  Bagshaw 
had  once  been  his  friend  and  former  defender. 

"Each  spoke  words  of  high  disdain 
And  insult  to  his  heart's  best  brother: 
They  parted,  ne'er  to  meet  again!" 


"I  cannot  forgive  myself,"  he  says,  later  on  in  life, 
"for  rash  words  or  deeds  by  which  I  have  seemed  less 
tender  and  kind  than  I  should  have  been  to  my  near 
and  dear  relations.  When  such  are  dead,  every  sour 
or  cross  provoking  word  which  I  gave  them  maketh 
me  almost  unreconcilable  with  myself,  and  tells  me 
how  repentance  brought  some  of  old  in  the  hurry  of 
their  passion  to  pray  to  the  dead  whom  they  had 
wronged  to  forgive  them." 

The  affair  with  Mr.  Bagshaw  had  no  transient 
effect  on  Baxter's  mind.  It  appears  to  have  wrought, 
besides  the  compunction  of  heart  shown  by  the 
words  that  have  been  quoted,  a  deep  and  permanent 
change  in  him.  Whereas  he  had  been,  as  Dean 
Stanley  says,  "provokingly  contentious,  at  times 
captious  beyond  endurance,"  sharp  and  cutting  in  his 
reproofs,  and  disposed  (in  his  eagerness  to  refute 
opponents  in  controversy),  as  Orme  says,  "to  push 
matters  further  than  the  circumstances  of  the  times 
admitted,"  he  became  at  last  tolerant  and  gentle 
toward  those  who  differed  from  him  in  their  religious 
and  theological  opinions,  until  he  arrived  at  the 
point  of  saying:  "Almost  all  the  contentions  of 
divines, — the  sects,  the  factions,   the  unreconciled 

148 


RICHARD  BAXTER 

feuds,  the  differences  in  religion,  which  have  been 
the  taunt  of  the  devil  and  of  his  emissaries  in 
the  world,  have  come  from  pretended  knowledge 
and  of  taking  uncertain  for  certain  truths.  Richard 
Baxter,  by  God's  blessing,  on  long  and  hard  studies 
hath  learned  to  know  that  he  knoweth  but  lit- 
tle, and  to  suspend  his  judgment  of  uncertainties 
and  to  take  great,  necessary  and  certain  things  for 
the  food  of  his  faith  and  comfort,  and  the  measure 
of  his  church  communion." 

He  made  the  motto  of  those  last  years  of  his  life 
the  now  familiar  maxim  of  all  tolerant  Christians: 
''In  necessary  things  unity,  in  unnecessary  things 
liberty,  in  all  things  charity,''  which  he  had  discovered 
in  a  Latin  treatise  of  Rupertus  Meldenius,  an  obscure 
German  writer  and  conciliatory  theologian  of  the 
seventeenth  century,  and  "which,"  says  Dean 
Stanley,  "has  gradually  entered  into  universal 
literature  and  been  deemed  worthy  of  the  great 
Augustine,  who,  I  fear,  with  all  his  power  and  piety 
never,  or  hardly  ever,  wrote  anything  so  good  or  so 
wise  as  this." 

The  great  change  wrought  in  Baxter  bore  precious 
fruit  in  his  last  uncompleted  literary  work,  the  "Nar- 
rative of  His  Own  Life,"  pubKshed  after  his  death. 
We  refer  especially  to  the  last  twenty  pages  or 
thereabouts  of  the  First  Part,  where  he  reviews  the 
changes  that  had  occurred  in  his  own  mind,  and  in 
his  opinions  and  conclusions  "  since  the  unriper  times 
of  his  youth."  "It  stands,"  says  Dean  Stanley, 
"in  the  very  foremost  rank  of  autobiographical 
reflections;  and  I  make  bold  to  say  that  in  permanent 

149 


NINE  GREAT   PREACHERS 

practical  instruction  it  as  much  exceeds  anything 
even  in  the  *  Confessions '  of  Augustine,  as  in  ordi- 
nary fame  it  falls  below  them."  Stanley's  attention 
was  directed  to  it  as  a  remarkable  piece  of  literature 
by  Sir  James  Stevens.  "Lose  not  a  day  in  reading 
it,"  Stevens  said.  "You  will  never  repent  of  it." 
"That  very  night  I  followed  his  advice,"  says 
Stanley,  "and  I  have  ever  since,  publicly  and 
privately,  advised  every  theological  student  to  do 
the  same."  As  Stanley  pronounces  it  "the  very 
flower  of  Baxter's  writings"  I  shall  be  justified 
in  dwelling  upon  and  quoting  from  it  at  some 
length. 

Contrasting  what  he  was  and  thought  as  a  young 
man  with  what  he  had  become  through  his  enlighten- 
ing experiences  and  the  mental  growth  and  studies 
of  years,  he  says:  "I  was  then  like  a  man  of  quick 
understanding  that  was  to  travel  a  way  which  he 
never  went  before,  or  to  cast  up  an  account  which 
he  never  labored  in  before.  ...  I  am  now  like 
one  of  a  somewhat  slower  understanding,  who  is 
traveling  a  way  which  he  hath  often  gone,  and  is 
casting  up  an  account  which  he  hath  ready  at  hand, 
so  that  I  can  very  confidently  say,  my  judgment  is 
much  sounder  and  firmer  than  it  was  then." 

In  his  review  he  touches  upon  a  considerable  num- 
ber of  subjects,  all  interesting,  but  our  limited  space 
forbids  our  reference  to  but  few.  The  quality,  how- 
ever, of  "his  riper  thoughts,"  as  contrasted  with 
those  of  "the  unriper  times  of  his  youth,"  in  which, 
as  recalled,  he  says:  "I  find  the  footsteps  of  my 
unfurnished  mind  and  of  my  emptiness  and  insuffi- 

150 


RICHARD  BAXTER 

ciency,"  may  be  guessed  by  quoting  what  he  says 
on  these  few  topics  selected: 

The  Profit  of  Meditation  on  Heavenly  Blessedness 

"I  perceive  that  it  is  the  object  which  altereth 
and  elevateth  the  mind,  which  will  resemble  that 
which  it  most  frequently  feedeth  on.  It  is  not  only 
useful  to  our  comfort  to  be  much  in  heaven  in 
believing  thoughts;  it  must  animate  all  our  other 
duties  and  fortify  us  against  every  temptation  and 
sin.  The  love  of  the  end  is  the  poise  or  spring  which 
setteth  every  wheel  a-going." 

Increasing  Consciousness  of  Personal  Ignorance  in 
Spite  of  Growing  Knowledge 
"Formerly  I  knew  much  less  than  now,  and  yet 
was  not  half  so  much  acquainted  with  my  ignorance. 
I  had  a  great  delight  in  the  daily  new  discoveries 
which  I  made,  and  of  the  hght  which  shined  in  upon 
me,  like  a  man  that  cometh  into  a  country  where  he 
never  was  before,  but  I  little  knew  either  how 
imperfectly  I  understood  those  very  points  whose 
discovery  so  much  delighted  me  or  how  many  things 
I  yet  was  a  stranger  to.  I  now  find  far  greater 
darkness  in  all  things,  and  perceive  how  very  little 
we  know  in  comparison  of  that  of  which  we  are 
ignorant.  I  have,  therefore,  far  meaner  thoughts 
of  my  own  understanding  though  I  know  that  it  is 
better  furnished  than  it  was  then." 

Good  and  Bad  Men 

"I  now  see  that  good  men  are  not  so  good  as 
I  once    thought    they  were,     .     .     .     that    nearer 

151 


NINE  GREAT  PREACHERS 

approach  and  fuller  trial  do  make  the  best  appear 
more  weak  and  faulty  than  their  admirers  at  a 
distance  think;  and  I  find  that  few  are  so  bad  as 
either  malicious  enemies  or  censorious  professors  do 
imagine.  In  some,  indeed,  I  find  that  human  nature 
is  corrupted  into  a  greater  likeness  to  devils  than  I 
once  thought;  but  even  in  the  wicked,  usually,  there 
is  more  for  grace  to  take  advantage  of  than  I  once 
believed." 

Church  Communion 

"I  am  not  so  narrow  in  my  principles  of  Church 
communion  as  once  I  was.  I  am  not  for  narrowing 
the  Church  more  than  Christ  himself  alloweth  us 
nor  for  robbing  him  of  any  of  his  flock.  I  can  now 
distinguish  between  sincerity  and  profession,  and 
that  the  profession  is  credible  that  is  not  disproved. 
.  .  .  I  am  more  sensible  of  the  sin  and  mischief 
of  using  men  cruelly  in  matters  of  religion,  and  of 
pretending  men's  good  and  the  order  of  the  Church 
for  acts  of  inhumanity  and  uncharitableness.  Such 
know  not  their  own  infirmity,  nor  yet  the  nature  of 
pastoral  government,  which  ought  to  be  paternal 
and  by  love;  nor  do  they  know  the  way  to  win  a 
soul,  or  to  maintain  the  Church's  peace.  I  do  not 
lay  so  much  stress  upon  t\e  external  forms  of  wor- 
ship. Judgment  and  Charity  are  the  cause  of  it. 
I  cannot  be  so  narrow  in  my  principles  of  Church 
communion  as  many  are,  that  are  so  much  for  a 
liturgy,  or  so  much  against  it;  so  much  for  ceremonies, 
or  so  much  against  them,  that  they  can  hold  com- 
munion with  no  church  that  is  not  of  their  mind  and 

152 


RICHARD  BAXTER 

way.  ...  I  cannot  be  of  their  opinion,  that 
think  God  will  not  accept  him  that  prayeth  by  the 
Common  Prayer  Book;  and  that  such  forms  are  a 
self -invented  worship,  which  God  rejecteth;  nor  yet 
can  I  be  of  their  mind  that  say  the  like  of  extempore 
praj^ers." 

Differences  and  Church  Divisions  of  Christians 

"I  am  more  afflicted  by  the  disagreements  of 
Christians  than  I  was;  except  the  case  of  the  infidel 
world,  nothing  is  so  bad  and  grievous  to  my  thoughts 
as  the  case  of  divided  churches;  and,  therefore,  I 
am  more  deeply  sensible  of  the  sinfulness  of  those 
prelates  and  pastors  of  churches  who  are  the  prin- 
cipal cause  of  these  divisions.  How  is  the  conversion 
of  infidels  hindered  by  them  and  Christ  dishonored! 
I  think  most  divines  do  study  differences  a  hundred 
hours  for  one  hour  that  ever  they  study  the  healing 
of  differences,  and  that  is  a  shameful  disproportion. 
Do  not  bend  all  your  wits  to  find  what  more  may  be 
said  against  others,  and  to  make  the  differences  as 
wide  as  you  can,  but  study  as  hard  to  find  out  men's 
agreements  and  to  reduce  the  differences  to  as  narrow 
a  compass  as  possible.  Be  as  industrious  for  the 
peace  of  the  Church  among  others  as  if  you  smarted 
for  it  yourself;  seek  it,  and  beg  it,  and  follow  it,  and 
take  no  nay.  Be  sure  that  you  see  the  true  con- 
troversy, and  distinguish  all  that  is  merely  verbal 
from  that  which  is  material;  and  that  which  is  about 
methods  and  modes  and  circumstances  from  that 
which  is  about  substantial  truths;  and  that  which 
is  about  the  inferior  truths,  though  weighty,  from 

153 


NINE  GREAT  PREACHERS  | 

that  which  is  about  the  essentials  of  Christianity. 
Lay  the  unity  of  the  Church  upon  nothing  but  what 
is   essential   to   the   Church.     Seek   after  as  much 
truth  and  purity  and  perfection  as  you  can  but  as       \ 
not  necessary  to  the  essence  of  the  church  or  any       ; 
member  of  it.     Tolerate  no  error  nor  sin  so  far  as  not 
to  seek  the  healing  of  it;  but  tolerate  all  error  and 
sin,  consistent  with  Christian  faith  and  charity,  so 
far  as  not  to  unchristian  and  unchurch  men  for 
them.     .     .     .     Acquaint   yourselves    with   healing       j 
truths  and  labor  to  be  as  skillful  in  the  work  of       | 
pacifying  and  agreeing  men  as  most  are  in  the  work       | 
of  dividing  and  disagreeing.     The  least  contested       i 
points  are  commonly  the  most  weighty."  j 

His  Zeal  for  Truth  Limited  to  Fundamentals  \ 

"I  have  lost  much  of  the  zeal  which  I  had  to       ' 
propagate  any  truths  save  the  mere  fundamentals. 
When  I  perceive  people  to  think  they  know  what       ] 
indeed  they  do  not — which  is  too  common — and  to 
dispute  those  things  which  they  never  thoroughly 
studied,  or  to  expect  that  I  should  debate  the  case 
with  them,  as  if  an  hour's  talk  would  serve  instead       i 
of  an  acute  understanding  and  seven  years'  study,  I       | 
have  no  zeal  to  make  them  of  my  opinion    .    .    .  and       j 
am  apt  to  be  silent  and  leave  them  to  themselves."  j 

The  Blindness  to  Its  Evidence  of  Opponents  to  Truth 

"We  mistake  men's  diseases  when  we  think  there  ; 
needeth  nothing  to  cure  their  errors  but  only  to  , 
bring  them  the  evidence  of  the  truth.  Alas!  there  I 
are  many  distempers  of  the  mind  to  be  removed  ' 
before  men  are  apt  to  receive  that  evidence.     In       i 

154  j 


RICHARD  BAXTER 

controversies,  fierce  opposition  is  the  bellows  to 
kindle  a  resisting  zeal,  when  if  they  be  let  alone  and 
their  opinions  lie  awhile  despised  they  usually  cool 
and  come  again  to  themselves." 

The  Sin  of  Pride 

"I  am  much  more  apprehensive  than  long  ago  of 
the  odiousness  and  danger  of  the  sin  of  pride,  especi- 
ally in  matters  spiritual.  I  think  so  far  as  any  man 
is  proud,  he  is  king  to  the  devil  and  utterly  a  stranger 
to  God  and  himself.  It  is  a  wonder  that  it  should 
be  a  possible  sin  to  men  that  still  carry  about  with 
them  in  soul  and  body  such  humbling  matter  as  we 
all  do." 

Mutability  of  Mind 

"I  find  a  great  mutability  as  to  the  apprehensions 
and  degrees  of  grace,  and  consequently  find  that  so 
mutable  a  thing  as  the  mind  of  man  would  never 
keep  itself  if  God  were  not  its  keeper.  When  I  have 
been  seriously  musing  upon  the  reasons  of  Chris- 
tianity, with  the  concurrent  evidences  methodically 
placed  in  their  just  advantages  before  my  eyes,  I 
am  so  clear  in  my  belief  of  the  Christian  verities  that 
Satan  hath  little  room  for  a  temptation;  but  some- 
times when  the  foresaid  evidences  have  been  out  of 
the  way,  or  less  upon  my  thoughts,  he  hath  by 
surprises  amazed  me  and  weakened  my  faith  in  the 
present  act." 

Suffering  the  Lot  of  the  Church 

*'I  am  more  apprehensive  that  suffering  must  be 
the  Church's  ordinary  lot,  and  true  Christians  must 

155 


NINE  GREAT  PREACHERS 

be  self-denying  cross-bearers  even  where  there  are 
none  but  nominal  Christians  to  be  the  cross-makers ; 
for  ordinarily,  God  would  have  vicissitudes  of 
summer  and  winter,  day  and  night,  that  the  church 
may  grow  externally  in  the  summer  of  prosperity, and 
internally  and  radically  in  the  winter  of  adversity; 
yet,  usually,  their  night  is  longer  than  their  day,  and 
that  day  itself  hath  its  storms  and  tempests." 

His  Chief  Solicitude 

"I  am  more  solicitous  about  my  duty  to  God,  and 
less  solicitous  about  his  dealings  with  me,  being 
assured  that  he  will  do  all  things  well  and  that  there 
is  no  rest  but  in  the  will  and  goodness  of  God." 

Conclusion 

"This  much  of  the  alterations  of  my  soul  since 
my  younger  years.  .  .  .  What  I  have  recorded 
hath  been  especially  to  perform  my  vows.  I  have 
done  it  also  to  prevent  the  defective  performance  of 
this  task  by  overvaluing  brethren  who  were  unfitter 
to  do  it  than  myself;  and  that  young  Christians  may 
be  warned  by  the  mistakes  and  failings  of  my  unriper 
times,  to  learn  in  patience,  live  in  watchfulness,  and 
not  be  fierce  and  proudly  confident  in  their  first 
conceptions;  to  reverence  ripe,  experienced  age  and 
to  beware  of  taking  such  for  their  chief  guides  as  have 
nothing  but  immature  and  inexperienced  judgments 
with  fervent  affections  and  free  and  confident 
expressions." 

Our  quotations  from  Baxter's  last  work  show  that 
his  mind  was  continually  progressive,   growing  in 

156 


RICHARD  BAXTER 

spiritual  insight,  and  freedom  of  thought  and  charity 
of  opinion  to  the  very  end. 

"These  counsels  of  moderation,"  as  Dean  Stanley 
calls  them,  men  are  slow  to  hear  in  times  of  heated 
controversy  and  bitter  resentment  like  those  in 
England  during  the  Civil  War  and  the  reigns  of  the 
two  last  of  her  Stuart  kings,  but  when  the  sky  clears 
and  a  serener  atmosphere  comes,  then  they  are 
heeded  as  sane  and  Christian.  They  so  slowly  make 
their  way,  because  strong  prejudices  and  theological 
and  political  rancors  are  slow  to  cool,  like  the  lava  of 
a  volcano  which  is  warm  to  the  touch  and  glows  with 
inward  fire  long  after  the  eruption;  but,  nevertheless, 
they  prevail  at  last  by  their  intrinsic  reasonableness 
and  persistent  power. 

We  have  an  impressive  proof  of  this  in  the  case  of 
Baxter,  showing  the  increasing  acceptance  of  his 
liberal  ideas  among  all  classes  of  English  people. 
In  a  public  place  in  Kidderminster,  a  striking  statue 
was  erected  and  dedicated  to  the  memory  of  Baxter 
with  appropriate  and  impressive  ceremonies,  July 
28,  1875.  On  the  pedestal  of  the  statue  is  the 
following  inscription: 

"Between  the  years  1641  and  1660 

this  town  was  the  scene  of  the  labors  of 

Richard  Baxter 

renowned  equally  for  his  Christian  learning 

and  his  pastoral  fidehty. 

In  a  stormy  and  divided  age 

he  advocated  unity  and  comprehension 

pointing  the  way  to  the  Everlasting  Rest. 

Churchmen  and  Non -conformists 

united  to  raise  this  Memorial.     A.  D.  1875." 

157 


NINE  GREAT  PREACHERS 

Dean  Stanley  made  on  tlie  occasion  a  notable 
address,  in  which  Baxter's  character  and  work  were 
highly  eulogized;  of  which  "unity  and  compre- 
hension," the  things  which  Baxter  had  labored  so 
hard  to  promote  among  English  Christians  but 
apparently  in  vain,  were  the  key  notes.  This  event, 
occurring  more  than  two  hundred  years  after  the 
Savoy  conference,  shows  that  the  character  and  work 
of  a  good  man,  however  much  misunderstood  and 
misrepresented  during  his  lifetime,  will  certainly  at 
length  be  recognized.  Much  still  remains,  to  be 
sure,  to  be  accomplished  before  his  aim  will  be  fully 
realized.  But  sooner  or  later  it  will  be  done.  The 
growing  spirit  of  mutual  toleration  and  respect 
among  all  Christians  presages  it;  the  prayer  of  Christ 
for  his  disciples,  "that  they  all  may  be  one  that  the 
world  may  believe,"  assures  us  of  it. 

Baxter's  writings  and  words,  often  and  widely 
quoted,  have  powerfully  wrought  for  this  end.  As 
gems  of  thought  they  have  enriched  our  modern 
literature,  and  are  symbolized  by  one  of  nature's 
wonders.  Far  to  the  north,  beyond  our  Great 
Lakes  and  the  Canada  line,  there  is  a  ledge  of  jasper 
conglomerate,  fragments  of  which  torn  off  by  the 
forces  of  the  Ice  Age  and  carried  southward  by 
glacial  action  are  found,  scattered  all  over  Ohio, 
Indiana,  Illinois  and  even  beyond  the  Ohio  River, 
in  Kentucky,  and  the  Mississippi,  in  Iowa.  They 
have  been  gathered  up  to  adorn  public  parks  and 
buildings,  and  to  enrich  the  geological  specimens  of 
college  museums,  have  been  wrought  into  tombstones 
for  cemeteries,  and  into  doorsteps  to  private  dwell- 

158 


RICHARD  BAXTER 

ings,  all  of  them  reminding  the  intelligent  observer 
of  the  distant  ledge  whence  they  originally  came. 
This  ledge,  with  its  fragments  so  widely  scattered, 
is  typical  of  the  writings  of  Baxter  and  his  influences. 

In  the  Court  of  Judge  Jeffries 

In  1685,  when  seventy  years  of  age,  and  enfeebled 
by  the  ill  health  and  ailments  which  greatly  reduced 
his  strength,  "so  that  I  did  but  live,"  he  says, 
Baxter  was  brought  to  trial  before  the  infamous 
Lord  Chief  Justice  Jeffries  for  his  "Paraphrase  on  the 
New  Testament,"  recently  published,  which  was 
described  in  the  indictment  as  "a  scandalous  and 
seditious  book  against  the  government."  The  chief 
charge  w^as,  that  in  certain  passages  indicated,  he 
had  reflected  on  the  prelates  of  the  Church  of  England 
and  so  was  guilty  of  sedition.  But  as  no  bishops  or 
clergy  of  the  Church  of  England  were  named,  and  the 
author  in  this  very  book  had  spoken  honorably  of 
the  bishops  of  this  Church,  his  counsel  truly  said 
that  they  who  had  drawn  up  the  information  were 
the  libelers  in  applying  to  the  English  prelates  the 
severe  things  that  the  book  contained  against 
unworthy  bishops  of  the  Church  of  Rome,  spoken  of 
in  Church  history,  who  "were  the  plagues  of  the 
Church  and  of  the  world." 

To  this  Jeffries  said  that  Baxter  was  "an  enemy 
to  the  name  and  thing,  the  office  and  persons  of 
bishops";  and  when  the  prisoner  ventured  to  speak 
in  defense  of  himself,  the  Chief  Justice  interrupted 
and  silenced  him  with  unbridled  ferocity  and  such 

159 


NINE  GREAT  PREACHERS 

reviling  abuse  as  this:  "Richard,  Richard,  dost  thou 
think  we'll  hear  thee  poison  the  court?  Richard, 
thou  art  an  old  fellow,  an  old  knave;  thou  hast 
written  books  enough  to  load  a  cart,  every  one  as 
full  of  sedition,  I  might  say  treason,  as  an  egg  is  full 
of  meat,"  and  much  more  of  the  same  sort.  When 
he  ended,  he  told  the  jury  "that  if  they  believed  the 
accused  meant  the  bishops  and  clergy  of  the  Church 
of  England  in  the  passages  which  the  information 
referred  to — and  he  could  mean  nothing  else — they 
must  find  him  guilty."  When  the  judge  had 
finished  his  charge,  Baxter  said  to  him:  "Does  your 
lordship  think  any  jury  will  pretend  to  pass  a  verdict 
against  me  upon  such  a  trial?"  "I'll  warrant  you, 
Mr.  Baxter,"  he  replied.  The  jury  fulfilled  his 
expectation:  Baxter  was  sentenced  to  a  heavy  fine 
and  imprisonment  until  this  was  paid. 

He  went  to  prison  and  remained  in  it  for  two 
years — when  the  fine  was  remitted  by  the  king. 
While  in  prison  he  was  cheered  by  visits  from  friends ; 
among  whom  were  some  of  the  most  respectable 
clergy  of  the  Established  Church,  who  deplored  the 
injustice  he  received.  After  his  release,  he  con- 
tinued to  live  in  London,  preaching  occasionally  for 
his  friend  Sylvester  while  his  strength  permitted. 
These  closing  years  of  his  life  were  full  of  suffering, 
but  he  continued  his  writing  nearly  to  the  end,  the 
productions  of  his  pen  showing  that  the  ardor  and 
clearness  of  his  mind  were  unimpaired.  A  friend 
speaking  of  the  good  many  had  received  from  his 
writings,  he  replied:  "I  was  but  a  pen  in  God's 
hands;    what   praise    is    due    to    a   pen?"     Cotton 

160 


RICHARD   BAXTER 

Mather,  of  New  England,  visited  him  the  day  before 
he  died,  and  speaking  some  comforting  words  to 
him,  he  repKed:  "I  have  pain,  there  is  no  arguing 
against  sense,  but  I  have  peace,  I  have  peace." 

He  died,  December  8,  1691,  in  London,  in  the 
reign  of  William  and  Mary,  surrounded  by  attached 
friends  and  reverenced  by  the  better  portion  of  the 
religious  world.  When  life  was  almost  gone,  he  was 
asked  by  one  of  these  friends  how  he  did.  "Almost 
well,"  was  his  significant  reply,  in  anticipation  of 
the  fulfillment  of  his  hope,  that  "after  the  rough 
tempestuous  day  we  shall  at  last  have  the  quiet 
silent  night — light  and  rest  together — the  quietness 
of  the  night  without  its  darkness." 


11  161 


V 

BOSSUET 


V 

BOSSUET 

1627-1705 

Adorning  the  four  sides  of  the  imposing  fountain 
in  the  public  square  before  the  Church  of  St.  Sulpice, 
Paris,  are  four  sitting  statues  of  heroic  size.  They 
represent  four  great  French  preachers,  Bossuet, 
Flechier,  Fenelon,  and  Massillon,  the  fame  of  whose 
eloquence,  as  it  was  most  signally  displayed  in  Paris, 
the  city  now  cherishes  as  an  important  part  of  her 
civic  glory.  Of  these  interesting  figures  with  their 
noble  faces,  that  of  Bossuet  is  fittingly  reckoned  the 
most  striking,  as  he  was  the  most  distinguished  of  the 
four  in  life  for  his  pulpit  eloquence.  He  was  the 
greatest,  indeed,  of  all  the  illustrious  preachers  that 
adorned  the  reign  of  Louis  XIV.  and  made  it  the 
Golden  Age  of  the  French  pulpit.  A  study  of  his 
life  is  interesting  and  instructive  as  revealing  the 
method  by  which  a  great  preacher  may  be  said  to 
have  made  himself.  We  have  found  a  delightful 
guide  to  such  study  in  M.  Eug.  Gandar,  the  author 
of  an  elaborate  French  work  entitled  "Bossuet 
Orateur;  Etudes  Critiques  sur  les  Sermons,"*  a 
work  crowned  with  honor  by  the  French  Academy. 

As  shown  by  this  interesting  work,  Bossuet  be- 
came the  great  preacher   he  was,  not  by  any  easy 

*  Paris,  Errin  et  Cie,  1888. 

165 


NINE   GREAT  PREACHERS 

development  of  his  powers,  but  by  a  course  of  strenu- 
ous toil,  and  studious,  intelligent  self -discipline. 
Endowed  by  nature  with  a  remarkable  genius, 
horn  an  orator  if  any  man  ever  was,  he  combined 
with  his  native  genius  and  its  rare  capabilities  an 
industry  quite  as  remarkable,  so  that  he  illustrated 
in  his  person  the  saying,  "Great  genius  is  an  infinite 
capacity  for  hard  work."  He  early  revealed  his 
extraordinary  gifts.  In  the  Jesuit  school  of  Dijon, 
his  native  city,  he  showed  especial  aptitude  for  the 
ancient  classics,  the  translation  of  which  into  modern 
speech  has  always  proved  an  .excellent  discipline 
for  the  development  of  the  power  of  ready,  precise 
and  copious  expression  of  thought.  He  was  dedi- 
cated by  his  parents  to  the  ministry.  St.  Bernard 
of  Clairvaux  was  born  in  the  same  province,  in  the 
neighborhood  of  Dijon,  and  was  constantly  held  up 
to  him,  in  the  conversations  about  the  home  fireside, 
as  a  model  of  piety  and  eloquence.  To  complete 
his  preparatory  course  for  the  ministry,  Bossuet 
was  sent  to  Paris,  at  the  age  of  fifteen,  to  the  famous 
College  of  Navarre.  Its  headmaster  at  that  time 
was  Nicolas  Cornet,  whose  virtues  and  skill  as  a 
teacher  were  thus  gratefuly  acknowledged  by  Bos- 
suet in  the  funeral  oration  he  pronounced  in  his 
honor:  "I,  who  found  in  this  man,  with  many  other 
rare  qualities,  an  inexhaustible  treasure  of  sage 
counsel,  faithfulness,  sincerity,  and  constant,  un- 
failing friendship,  cannot  refuse  to  him  here  some 
tribute  of  a  mind  which  in  its  early  youth  he  cul- 
tivated with  a  fatherly  kindness."  Under  the  stimu- 
lating influence  of  this  wise    teacher   he  achieved 

166 


BOSSUET 

distinction  in  every  line  of  study  except  mathe- 
matics, for  which  he  thought  he  had  no  faculty. 

His  brilhant  achievements  in  the  College  soon 
became  noised  through  the  city,  especially  his  elo- 
quent religious  addresses  in  the  College  Chapel,  and 
he  was  invited  to  give  proof  of  his  eloquence  for  the 
edification  of  the  select  company  that  assembled 
in  the  salon  bleu  of  the  Marquise  de  Rambouillet. 
He  was  brought  into  their  presence  and  given  a 
subject,  having  only  a  few  minutes  for  its  considera- 
tion, but  no  book.  Thus  tested,  this  youth  of  six- 
teen extemporized  an  eloquent  sermon,  which  was 
prolonged  until  after  midnight;  at  which  one  of  the 
wits  present  said,  he  "never  heard  one  preach  so 
early  and  so  late.'' 

For  a  wonder  these  attentions  and  flatteries  did 
not  turn  his  head.  He  remained  unspoiled.  M. 
Gandar  says,  "The  progress  of  years  and  sober 
reflection  put  Bossuet  on  his  guard  against  the 
illusions  of  youth,  even  when  these  seemed  justified 
by  the  flattering  eclat  of  the  plaudits  given  him." 
The  admiration  he  received  assured  him  that  he 
possessed  the  natural  gifts  of  an  orator;  they  did  not 
delude  him  into  thinking  that  he  was  already  a 
consummate  orator.  So  he  labored  to  make  him- 
self such  with  unwearied  assiduity. 

Of  what  M.  Gandar  calls  ''les  illusions  de  la 
jeunesse"  by  which  he  meant  the  conceits  common 
to  bright  young  men,  and  from  which  Bossuet  was 
preserved  by  his  sober  judgment,  or  which  he  soon 
outgrew  with  the  progress  of  years,  two  may  well 
be  mentioned.     They  are,  first,  that  mere  fluency, 

167 


NINE   GREAT  PREACHERS 

or  readiness  of  speech,  such  as  Bossuet  had  exhibited 
at  the  Hotel  de  Rambouillet,  is  enough  to  make  one 
a  successful  and  effective  preacher;  and,  second,  that 
the  resources  of  an  active,  inventive  mind,  independ- 
ent of  any  help  derivable  from  intelligent  and  fruit- 
ful studies,  are  adequate  to  make  one  a  successful 
preacher.  In  the  progress  of  years,  both  of  these 
conceits  are  likely  to  be  taken  out  of  a  man:  they 
must  be,  indeed,  if  he  achieves  any  success.  In  the 
case  of  some,  however,  the  correction  comes  late — 
too  late  to  retrieve  the  mischief  of  their  early 
foolishness. 

Of  the  first  of  these  mistakes — the  overvaluation 
of  fluency — it  is  so  common  and  disastrous  that 
fluency  has  come  to  be  regarded  by  intelligent  people 
as  a  "fatal  gift."  It  is  "fatal,"  because  apt  to 
incline  its  possessor  to  trust  unduly  to  it,  to  the  neg- 
lect of  the  careful  thought  and  thorough  study 
indispensable  to  successful  public  speaking.  It  is 
fatal  to  the  lawyer  and  legislator  as  well  as  the 
preacher.  Lord  Chief  Justice  Russell,  of  England, 
in  a  recent  address  to  a  society  of  law-students  in 
London,  is  reported  to  have  spoken  of  this  faculty 
of  ready  speech  somewhat  as  follows:  "It  was  his 
opinion  that  facility  of  speech  is  liable  to  degenerate 
into  glibness  of  speech,  and,  judging  from  his  own 
experience,  the  man  who  speaks  glibly  does  not,  as 
a  rule,  speak  impressively  or  instructively.  In  the 
flood  of  his  eloquence  there  is  usually  a  dearth  of 
ideas.  What  is  wanted  is  not  words,  words,  but 
thoughts,  thoughts,  thoughts."  Bossuet  had  the 
good  sense  early  to  perceive  this  danger  and  to  labor 

168 


BOSSUET 

diligently  to  improve  his  preaching  in  the  essen- 
tials of  thoughtfulness  and  adaptation  to  the  spirit- 
ual needs  of  men.  Four  things  were  paramount 
in  his  conception  of  what  is  demanded  of  the  good 
preacher,  which  things  were  more  and  more  marked 
in  his  preaching.  They  were  right  thoughts,  right 
words,  right  feelings — feelings  in  entire  sympathy 
with  the  truth  uttered — and  untrammeled  freedom 
in  the  delivery  of  this  truth.  The  thoughts  which 
he  deemed  most  "right"  or  appropriate  for  the 
preacher's  sermons,  were  the  great,  necessary  truths 
of  religion.  "Speak  to  me  of  necessary  truths," 
he  said  on  his  deathbed.  These  truths  he  loved 
with  increasing  ardor,  and  labored  to  make  attrac- 
tive. "He  is  under  the  charm  of  the  truth  he 
declares,"  says  M.  Gandar,  "and  he  thinks  it  so 
beautiful  that  none  can  tire  of  hearing  it,  as  he  could 
not  tire  of  speaking  of  it."  This  feeling  sometimes, 
in  the  early  years  of  his  preaching,  betrayed  him  into 
prolixity. 

With  these  ideas  and  sentiments,  more  or  less 
clearly  defined,  Bossuet  entered  upon  his  work.  At 
Metz  he  began,  spending  six  years  in  that  provin- 
cial city — years  of  hard  study  and  the  diligent  per- 
formance of  the  various  duties  of  his  sacred  calling. 
He  spoke  of  them  afterward  as  the  years  of  his  ap- 
prenticeship, in  which  he  laid  the  foundations  of  his 
ministerial  success.  There  he  found  that  "season 
of  truce"  between  the  educating  discipline  of 
school  and  the  exacting  business  of  the  world,  in 
which  the  power  of  thought  freely  develops  and 
ripens. 

169 


NINE   GREAT  PREACHERS 

It  is  by  a  curious  incident  in  French  history  that 
the  knowledge  of  those  studies  and  ideas,  by  which 
he  fashioned  himself,  is  furnished  us  by  Bossuet. 
When  at  the  height  of  his  fame,  the  Abbe  d'Albret, 
the  nephew  of  Marshal  Turenne,  the  great  French 
general,  was  created  Cardinal  de  Bouillon  at  the 
age  of  twenty -six.  The  event  provoked  consider- 
able criticism,  about  the  French  court  and  in  the 
church,  so  that  the  young  Cardinal  felt  it  important, 
if  possible,  to  show  the  world  that  the  victories  of 
his  great  uncle  and  his  public  profession  of  the  Cath- 
olic faith  were  not  the  nephew's  only  titles  to  his 
promotion.  The  pulpit  offered  him  an  obvious  but 
perilous  means  of  vindication.  Diffident,  however, 
of  his  ability  to  shine  in  the  pulpit,  he  sought 
instruction  from  Bossuet  as  to  "the  studies  indis- 
pensable" for  making  a  great  preacher.  Bossuet, 
a  devoted  friend  of  the  young  Cardinal's  family, 
wrote  out  the  instruction  desired.  It  covers  but 
a  few  pages,  "written  without  a  pause  of  his  pen," 
and  "with  no  time  to  revise  them";  but  these  pages 
are  justly  esteemed  "precious"  by  M.  Gandar. 
Their  interest  is  chiefly  autobiographic.  The  direc- 
tions they  contain  are  recollections  of  the  method 
Bossuet  himself  had  used.  The  essential  things,  he 
says  in  substance,  are  "ample  knowledge,  such  as 
comes  from  the  thoroughgoing  habit  of  exploring 
subjects  to  the  bottom,  that  one  may  have  plenty 
to  say;  and  piety."  "Fullness  of  mind  gives  fer- 
tility of  mind,  and  fertility  of  mind  insures  a  pleas- 
ing variety." 

First  in  importance  for  the  replenishment  of  the 

170 


BOSSUET 

mind  is  the  knowledge  of  the  Scriptures.  In  study- 
ing these,  he  should  not  spend  much  time  over  ob- 
scure passages  and  difficult  texts,  nor  in  turning 
the  pages  of  commentaries  to  find  out  their  explana- 
tion. He  must  not  expect  to  know  everything  in  the 
Bible,  for  this  is  a  book  of  which  one  could  never 
know  everything.  He  should  ascertain  what  is  clear 
and  most  certain,  SLudfill  his  mind  with  the  substance 
of  the  sacred  books,  with  the  primary  purpose  of 
nourishing  his  own  piety. 

For  the  further  replenishment  of  his  mind  the 
Cardinal  should  study  the  Church  Fathers.  Not 
content  with  giving  a  general  direction,  Bossuet 
speaks  of  the  Fathers  individually,  and  of  the  par- 
ticular benefits  to  be  gained  from  each.  St.  Cyprian 
would  teach  him  the  art  of  handling  the  Scriptures 
so  as  to  clothe  himself  with  their  divine  authority. 
Tertullian,  in  whom  he  himself  had  found  a  con- 
genial spirit,  "would  give  him  many  striking  sen- 
tences," Augustine  would  explain  the  doctrine  of 
Christianity:  "Sa  theologie  est  admirable;  il  Sieve 
r esprit  aux  grandes  et  subtiles  considerations.'''  Chrys- 
ostom  would  afford  him  "excellent  models  of  sim- 
ple eloquence  adapted  to  the  common  people  and 
well  fitted  to  instruct  and  move  them."  Lest  the 
amount  of  reading  thus  marked  out  for  the  indolent 
young  Cardinal  should  appall  him,  Bossuet  tells  him 
it  is  not  so  long  and  difficult  a  task  as  might  appear. 
"It  is  incredible,"  he  said,  "how  much  may  be  ac- 
complished, provided  one  is  willing  to  give  some  time 
to  the  effort^  and  to  follow  it  up  a  little.'' 

In  this     brief  outline  of  study  ''pour  former  un 

171 


NINE   GREAT  PREACHERS 

orateur''  Bossuet  gave  a  transcript  from  his  own 
experience  during  those  years  of  his  early  manhood  at 
Metz.  He  was  a  constant,  dihgent  student  of  the 
Bible,  so  that  Lamartine  says,  "in  Bossuet  the  Bible 
was  transfused  into  a  man."  Thence  he  derived 
that  ''accent  of  authority"  which  characterized  his 
preaching.  "We  must  not  seek  the  explanation  of 
this,"  says  M.  Gandar,  "in  the  imperious  bent  of 
his  mind."  If  he  sometimes  has  an  oracular  tone, 
it  is  because  he  presents  to  his  hearers,  as  he  says  and 
believes,  "wne  doctrine  toute  Chretienne,  toute  prise 
des  Livres  Saints  et  des  Ecritures  apostolique,''  ''sim- 
ple et  naive  exposition  des  maximes  de  FEvangile.''  It 
is  not  himself  whom  he  calls  upon  them  to  believe. 
"Listen,"  he  says,  "it  is  the  Saviour  who  speaks; 
it  is  a  question  of  heeding  His  word." 

In  regard  to  his  diligent  study  of  the  Fathers  of  the 
Church,  evidence  of  it  is  found  in  his  sermons  and 
funeral  orations  as  well  as  in  his  explicit  declaration, 
that  at  Metz  he  read  the  most  of  the  Fathers.  The 
fabric  of  his  discourses  is  shot  through,  as  with 
threads  of  silver  and  gold,  with  the  thoughts  and 
sayings  of  the  Fathers.  He  relies  upon  their  sup- 
port, he  breathes  their  spirit,  he  uses  their  expres- 
sions: he  imitates  them,  cites  them,  paraphrases 
them. 

The  Bible  and  the  Church  Fathers  thus  formed, 
so  to  speak,  his  solid  diet.  He  had  also  for  a  lighter 
diet  the  writings  of  Corneille,  whom  he  admired 
"for  his  force  and  vehemence";  the  Letters  of  Jean 
Balzac,  who  had  "enriched"  the  French  tongue  with 
"beautiful  sayings  and  noble  phrases,"   and  from 

172 


BOSSUET 

whom  he  "obtained  some  idea  of  a  fine  and  delicately 
turned  style";  and  the  works  of  Tacitus  in  the 
French  version  of  d'Ablancourt,  which  he  liked 
because  he  found  there  "examples  of  the  sublime  and 
the  grand,"  which  "ought  to  be,"  he  thought,  "the 
style  of  the  pulpit."  To  this  style,  it  may  be  said, 
his  natural  bent  inclined  him  as  well  as  his  studies  and 
the  fashion  of  the  time.  Indeed,  his  early  pulpit 
style  exhibits  the  faults  of  occasional  grandiloquence 
and  pompous  amplitude.  He  had  not  learned,  as 
he  came  to  learn  later,  the  value  of  self-restraint,  the 
force  of  condensed  expression,  the  merit  of  not  saying 
too  much;  in  short,  that,  in  writing  and  speaking, 
half  oftentimes  is  more  than  the  whole. 

But  with  these  faults  there  were  associated  extra- 
ordinary gifts  and  abilities.  He  had  a  pleasing  and 
sonorous  voice  that  easily  filled  the  largest  cathedral. 
He  had  a  heart  responsive  to  the  truth  he  uttered, 
and  vitalizing  it  with  genuine  emotion.  He  thus  had 
the  ability  of  investing  the  trite  themes  of  religion 
with  fresh  interest,  "infusing,"  as  Dean  Church 
says,  "a  sense  of  serious  reality  into  the  common- 
places of  the  pulpit."  Lastly,  he  had  the  power 
of  unfettered  freedom  in  the  pulpit.  Though  he 
wrote  out  his  sermons  at  the  first  and  continued  to 
do  this  for  nearly  twenty  years,  until  he  reached  the 
meridian  of  his  fame  as  a  preacher,  he  did  not 
attempt  to  commit  to  memory  what  he  had  written, 
and  require  of  himself  verbal  exactness  in  its  deliv- 
ery. Such  bondage  would  have  hampered  him,  he 
said,  and  quenched  the  fire  and  force  and  freedom  of 
his  utterance.     He  wrote  beforehand  for  the  same 

173 


NINE   GREAT  PREACHERS 

reasons  that  Alexander  Hamilton  and  Daniel  Web- 
ster wrote  their  famous  pleas,  to  sift  and  clarify 
his  thoughts,  to  determine  their  arrangement  for 
the  best  effect,  and  to  shape  their  expression  with 
suflScient  definiteness  to  save  him  from  uncertainty 
and  hesitation  in  speaking.  Having  done  this,  he 
trusted  himself  to  his  powers  of  utterance  under  the 
impulse  of  his  heart,  as  inspired  and  quickened  at  the 
moment  by  the  truth.  He  thus  secured  in  preaching 
choiceness  and  strength  of  thought,  felicity  of  lan- 
guage, and  the  power  of  easy,  sustained  flight  which 
caused  him  later  to  be  called  "the  Eagle." 

With  such  qualifications,  natural  and  acquired, 
Bossuet  soon  gained  at  Metz  a  great  reputation. 
The  people  of  the  city  thronged  to  hear  him;  strang- 
ers passing  through  were  told  about  him,  and 
attended  upon  his  preaching  as  the  chief  attraction 
of  the  town. 

One  of  the  remarkable  things  about  the  sermons  of 
those  early  years  is  that  they  contained  striking 
thoughts  and  passages  like  those  found  in  the  best 
sermons  of  his  later  days.  The  same  fact  has  been 
noted  in  the  lives  of  other  great  preachers.  Dr. 
Brown,  in  his  recently  published  Yale  Lectures  upon 
"Puritan  Preaching  in  England,"  says  of  Dr. 
Alexander  Maclaren,  of  Manchester,  that  "the  sur- 
vivors of  his  Southampton  congregation  [to  which 
he  ministered  in  his  young  manhood],  while  will- 
ing to  admit  that  he  is  more  forceful  and  more 
cultured  in  the  'nineties  than  in  the  'fifties,  still 
contend  that  he  has  never  reached  higher  levels 
than  he  frequently  did  in  the  days  when  he  was 

174 


k 


BOSSUET 

their  minister."  A  similar  declaration  is  made  by 
M.  Gandar  concerning  Bossuet's  early  preaching 
at  Metz.  "Bossuet,"  he  says,  *'will  be,  some  day, 
more  self-contained,  more  even  and  chastened  in 
his  style,  but  he  will  never  speak  in  a  more  elevated 
and  impressive  fashion.  There  is  in  the  best  parts 
of  the  Panegyric  of  St.  Bernard  [one  of  his  dis- 
courses at  Metz],  the  same  indescribable  charm 
which  we  shall  find  later  in  the  sermons  preached  at 
the  Louvre  and  in  the  'Funeral  Orations.'" 

Such  examples  suggest  that  a  young  preacher  of 
promise  is  somewhat  like  a  young  song-bird — a 
wood  thrush,  for  instance — which,  though  its  song 
has  not  the  full  strength,  sustaining  power,  and 
superb  quality  of  the  song  of  the  mature  bird,  sings 
nevertheless  the  same  song  essentially,  though  in  a 
feebler  key,  and  affords  a  similar  delight  to  those  that 
hear  it. 

Perhaps  all  preachers  of  promise  manifest  these 
tokens  of  excellence  in  the  early  years  of  their  minis- 
try. In  the  first  five  or  six  years  of  their  preaching, 
generally,  you  will  find  clear  intimations  of  their 
best  thought  and  pulpit  power.  But  many  lack 
what  Dr.  Bushnell  calls  "the  talent  of  growth"; 
or,  having  it,  they  do  not  stimulate  it.  They  do  not 
grow  in  pulpit  power;  they  do  not  possess  an  insati- 
able desire  to  do  so,  or  put  forth  unwearied  efforts 
to  realize  this  desire;  they  quickly  reach  their  limit 
of  improvement,  and  after  a  short  period  of  moderate 
success  exhibit  a  gradual  declension  of  preaching 
power. 

Bossuet  had  "the  talent  of  growth"  to  a  remark- 

175 


NINE  GREAT  PREACHERS 

able  degree.  He  was  also  both  ambitious  of  excel- 
lence and  willing  to  pay  the  full  price  for  it.  His 
was  a  good  example  of  what  an  eminent  public 
man  of  today  calls  "the  strenuous  life."  He  left 
little  to  chance;  he  was  resolute  of  purpose  to  im- 
prove himself  to  the  utmost;  he  sets  before  us  the 
example  of  "a  man  who  could  easily  win  admira- 
tion by  the  mere  exercise  of  his  natural  gifts,  but 
who  for  forty  years  never  ceased  toiling  to  satisfy 
his  high  ideal  of  excellence  and  make  himself  more 
perfect." 

Two  means  of  self -improvement  employed  by  him 
at  this  stage,  and  which  had  a  marked  influence  upon 
him,  here  demand  our  attention.  They  were:  (1) 
the  study  of  the  best  living  models  of  pulpit  elo- 
quence, and  (2)  the  writings  of  Pascal. 

After  four  or  five  years  of  uninterrupted  labor 
in  Metz,  he  made  a  visit  to  Paris,  and  remained 
there  about  a  year  and  a  half,  excepting  the  time 
required  for  a  short  visit  to  Dijon,  his  native  city, 
and  two  or  three  flying  visits  to  Metz,  demanded  by 
the  duties  of  his  position  there.  His  purpose  in 
going  to  Paris  was  to  hear  and  to  be  heard:  to  hear 
the  renowned  preachers  of  the  metropolis,  that  "his 
eyes  might  be  opened  to  his  own  defects";  that  he 
might  learn  to  speak  both  "to  the  level  of  his  audi- 
ence, and  to  the  height  of  his  subject,"  and  that  he 
might  clear  his  pulpit  style  of  dryness,  tautology, 
and  all  antiquated  phrases  and  provincialisms:  and 
to  be  heard  by  "audiences  accustomed  to  hear  the 
best  preachers,"  that  he  might  encounter  the 
criticism  of  their  standard  of  judgment. 

176 


BOSSUET 

Among  the  distinguished  preachers  whom  he 
heard,  four  are  specially  mentioned  by  M.  Gandar: 
Senault,  Superior  of  the  Oratory  in  the  Faubourg  St. 
Jacques ;  Leboux,  who  had  the  honor  of  being  selected 
by  the  Queen  Mother  to  preach  two  successive  ser- 
ies of  sermons  at  the  palace  of  the  Louvre  before  the 
young  king  and  the  court;  Godeau,  whose  preaching 
is  described  as  marked  by  "seriousness,"  "unction," 
and  "an  indescribable  charm,"  which  reminded  his 
hearers  of  the  graces  of  St.  Francis  de  Sales,  or  gave 
them  a  foretaste  of  the  "sweetness  of  Fenelon"; 
and  Claude  de  Lingendes,  the  Jesuit,  "an  almost 
perfect  orator,  condensed,  earnest,  sometimes  pa- 
thetic and  even  terrible,  whose  hearers  were  seen  to 
rise  from  their  seats  with  a  pale  face  and  downcast 
eyes,  and  depart  from  the  church  without  speaking 
a  word,  greatly  moved  and  thoughtful." 

The  hearing  of  these  preachers  produced  a  salutary 
change  in  Bossuet's  preaching.  His  style  became 
more  studied  and  even,  his  periods  more  symmet- 
rical and  marked  by  sustained  dignity  of  language. 
His  models  were  not  less  anxious  to  speak  properly 
than  to  think  truly,  and  they  did  not  separate  from 
a  scrupulous  attachment  to  the  truth  the  fear  of 
wounding  the  tongue,  the  ear — the  proprieties.  In 
imitating  these  models,  however,  he  encountered 
the  same  danger  that  his  studies  of  Corneille  and 
Balzac  and  Tacitus  had  before  exposed  him  to — the 
danger  of  being  stilted,  of  losing  his  simplicity  and 
naturalness,  of  becoming  unreal,  of  filling  with  clouds 
and  emptiness  those  heights  where  he  affected  to 
move. 

12  177 


NINE  GREAT  PREACHERS 

From  this  danger  he  was  saved  by  the  influence  of 
Pascal,  whose  "Provincial  Letters"  opportunely- 
appeared,  and  became  the  talk  of  the  town  at  the 
very  time  of  Bossuet's  visit  to  Paris.  This  famous 
work,  which  marks  an  epoch  in  French  literature, 
gave  a  new  and  better  model  of  prose  to  the  French 
language,  as  well  as  a  new  and  purer  standard  of 
morals  to  the  Catholic  Church.  Pascal  corrected 
the  false  taste  of  the  time  by  commending  to  general 
acceptance  the  following  sound  principles  of  rhetoric : 
that  the  repetition  of  a  word  or  phrase,  if  necessary 
to  the  clear  meaning  or  force  of  a  sentence,  is  not  to 
be  condemned;  that  useless  antitheses  for  the  sake 
of  symmetry  are,  like  "false  windows,"  absurd;  that 
euphuisms,  "to  mask  nature,"  or  "to  make  great 
what  is  little  or  little  what  is  great,"  are  to  be  avoided; 
that  a  conventional  eloquence  is  not  true  eloquence; 
that  a  continuous  eloquence  soon  becomes  wearisome; 
that  he  who  expresses  himself  naturally  is  likely  to 
be  listened  to  with  less  effort  and  more  pleasure; 
that  one  should  do  honor  to  the  word:  but  only  that  the 
word  may  do  honor  to  the  thought.'' 

Bossuet,  then  thirty  years  of  age,  readily  came 
under  the  influence  of  this  "peerless  writer,"  as 
Mme.  Sevigne  calls  him.  This  influence  is  shown, 
not  in  any  sudden  and  entire  alteration  of  his  natural 
tendency  to  majesty  {majeste  romaine,  as  M.  Gan- 
dar  calls  it),  but  in  the  fact  that  he  afterwards 
exhibited  a  more  chastened  taste,  and  had  ''the 
grand  art  of  not  saying  too  much,''  combined  with  the 
power  of  coining  felicitous  words  and  phrases  that 
stuck  in  the  memory.     The  influence  of  Pascal  is 

178 


BOSSUET 

visible  in  the  manuscripts  of  Bossuet,  as  seen  in  the 
way  he  worked  over  and  reshaped  the  thoughts  and 
passages  found  in  the  sermons  of  his  early  years  which 
he  thought  worthy  of  being  used  again  in  his  later 
sermons.  While  he  preserves  the  ideas  and  much  of 
the  old  language,  he  prunes  it  without  mercy,  "bring- 
ing," Dean  Church  says,*  "what  was  a  diffuse  and 
florid  piece  of  amplification  into  the  compass  of  a 
few,  nervous,  compact  sentences,  where  every  word 
tells." 

Were  these  ceaseless  efforts  to  perfect  his  pulpit- 
style  commendable?  We  think  so.  A  good  style 
is  like  the  feather  that  wings  the  archer's  shaft. 
The  better  the  style  that  conveys  the  truth,  the  more 
surely  it  is  carried  home  to  the  mark.  The  aim  of 
the  preacher  is  to  arrest  attention,  to  impress  the 
mind,  to  lodge  the  truth  in  the  memory  and  heart, 
so  that  it  may,  by  its  natural  operation,  purify  the 
heart  and  change  the  life.  A  good  pulpit  style, 
including  action  as  well  as  words,  assists  this  aim. 
To  the  degree  that  it  sends  the  truth  home,  so  that 
it  possesses  the  mind  with  haunting  and  inspiring 
power  through  the  action  and  words  that  drive  it  in, 
will  be  the  preacher's  power.  The  whole  past  his- 
tory of  the  pulpit  proves  this.  The  examples  of  the 
great  preachers  illustrate  the  fact.  This  consum- 
mate power  imparted  by  a  rare  style  to  the  preacher's 
eloquence,  and  derived  by  Bossuet  from  his  study  of 
Pascal,  was  revealed  after  his  return  from  Paris. 

His  return  was  hastened  by  the  arrival  in  Metz, 
a  fortnight  before,  of  the  Queen  Mother,  Anne  of 

*See  Occasional  Papers,  2  vol.;  vol.  i:i4.     London,  MacMillan  &  Co.,  1897. 

179 


NINE   GREAT  PREACHERS 

Austria,  with  the  young  king  and  court.  The  Queen 
Mother,  who  is  represented  in  the  annals  of  the  time 
as  occupied  with  acts  of  charity  and  devotion,  and  as 
eager  to  hear  all  preachers  of  renown,  desired  to 
hear  the  young  preacher  whose  eloquence  was  the 
pride  of  the  city,  and  had  recently  won  applause 
even  in  the  capital  where  he  had  preached.  At  any 
rate,  a  few  days  after  his  return,  he  preached  (at  her 
request),  before  herself  and  the  royal  court,  a 
panegyric  of  St.  Theresa.  It  marks  an  epoch  in  his 
pulpit  career  because  of  its  surpassing  merits,  and 
indicates  the  "beginning  of  his  maturity."  "There 
were  sagacious  people  in  the  brilliant  assembly  that 
heard  it,  who  confidently  predicted  that  such  elo- 
quence would  some  day  produce  a  great  noise  in  the 
church." 

The  fame,  thus  foretold,  came  two  years  later, 
when  Bossuet  was  called  to  Paris  to  preach  the  Lenten 
sermons  at  the  Louvre.  For  the  following  ten 
years,  from  1660  to  1670,  he  was  in  constant  request 
in  Paris  for  Lenten  sermons,  Advent  sermons  and 
French  orations.  The  audiences  that  gathered  to 
hear  him  were  composed  of  all  classes  and  conditions 
of  men.  "Court  and  city  flocked  to  listen;  the 
queens  went  from  the  palace,  and  the  nuns  of  Port 
Royal  from  their  seclusion;  Conde,  Turenne, 
Madame  de  Sevigne,  and  other  famous  contempo- 
raries." Scholars,  nobles,  sages — the  elite  of  society 
— mingled  with  the  crowd.  Never  was  the  fascina- 
tion which  eloquence  has  for  all  classes  of  mankind 
more  signally  displayed;  never  was  the  indescribable 
witchery  of  eloquent  speech  more  truly  exercised  by 

180 


BOSSUET 

human  lips.  For  the  hour,  while  sitting  before  him, 
those  hearers  sat  entranced;  they  were  almost 
literally  spellbound. 

Those  were  the  years  of  his  meridian  splendor  as  a 
preacher;  the  years  when  his  sermons  were  richest 
in  thought,  in  wealth  of  knowledge  and  sentiment, 
in  suggestive  and  picturesque  language.  At  the 
close  of  the  Careme  (Lenten  sermons)  given  at  the 
Louvre  in  1662,  the  King  himself  expressed  his 
enthusiasm  by  sending  a  personal  message  to  Bos- 
suet's  father,  to  felicitate  him  for  having  such  a  son. 

But  in  the  funeral  orations  over  Henrietta  Maria, 
Queen  of  England,  her  daughter,  the  Duchess  of 
Orleans,  and  the  great  Conde,  Bossuet  displayed 
the  most  remarkable  powers — powers  of  thought  and 
spiritual  discernment,  and  powers  of  a  varied,  exqui- 
site style :  the  power  of  swift,  condensed  narrative, 
which  places  before  us  the  substance  of  a  long  chap- 
ter or  volume  in  a  few  sentences,  as  in  the  descrip- 
tion of  Conde's  victorious  leadership  at  the  battle 
of  Rocroi;  and  the  power  of  epigrammatic  as  well  as 
pathetic  expression,  which  enabled  him,  by  the  use 
of  a  few  simple  words,  to  thrill  and  lift  his  hearers 
to  sublimest  heights  of  feeling,  or  to  move  them  to 
irrepressible  tears,  as  they  hung  upon  his  lips. 

Take,  for  example,  his  account  of  the  birth,  child- 
hood, and  development  to  a  beautiful  womanhood, 
and  of  the  sudden  death  of  Henrietta,  the  Duchess 
of  Orleans,  daughter  of  Charles  L,  King  of  England. 

"This  princess,  born  near  a  throne,  had  a  mind  and  heart 
superior  to  her  birth.  The  misfortunes  of  her  family  could  not 
crush  her  in  her  early  youth,  and  from  that  time  on  she  exhibited 

181 


NINE  GREAT  PREACHERS 

a  grandeur  which  owed  nothing  to  fortune.  We  say  with  joy- 
that  heaven  plucked  her  from  the  hands  of  the  enemies  of  her 
royal  father,  to  give  her  to  France.  Precious,  inestimable  gift — 
if  only  it  had  been  made  more  lasting !  .  .  .  Alas !  we  can- 
not dwell  a  moment  upon  the  glory  of  this  princess  without  hav- 
ing death  come  straightway  to  darken  everything  with  his 
shadow !  O  death,  withdraw  from  our  thought,  and  suffer  us  to  be 
beguiled,  for  a  little  while,  of  our  grief  by  the  remembrance  of 
our  joy!  Recall  now,  sirs,  the  admiration  this  English  princess 
inspired  in  all  the  court.  Your  memory  will  portray  her  better, 
with  all  her  traits  and  incomparable  loveliness,  than  my  words 
could  ever  do.  She  grew  up  amid  the  benedictions  of  all  classes, 
and  the  years  ceased  not  to  bring  to  her  new  graces.     .     .     . 

"Nevertheless,  neither  the  esteem  she  inspired  nor  all  her 
great  advantages  affected  her  modesty.  .  .  .  Men  spoke 
with  rapture  of  the  goodness  of  this  princess  who,  in  spite  of 
the  cliques  and  parties  common  to  courts,  won  all  hearts. 
She  exhibited  incredible  tact  in  treating  the  most  delicate 
matters,  in  removing  hidden  suspicions,  in  terminating  all 
difficulties  in  such  a  manner  as  to  conciliate  the  most  opposite 
interests." 

"Irremediable  sorrow!  that  the  subject  of  such  just  admira- 
tion should  become  the  subject  of  boundless  regret!  .  .  .  O 
woeful  night,  in  which,  on  a  sudden,  resounded,  like  a  clap  of 
thunder,  that  astonishing  news,  'Madame  is  dying!  Madame  is 
dead!'  .  .  .  And  there,  in  spite  of  that  great  heart,  is  this 
princess,  so  admired  and  so  beloved, — there  as  death  has  made 
her  for  us!" 

It  is  only  a  faint  conception  of  the  beauty  and 
pathos  of  the  original  that  our  poor  translation  can 
give.  Of  the  original  only  is  the  remark  of  Guizot 
true,  "Bossuet  alone  could  speak  like  that."  If  we 
have  conveyed,  however,  a  hint  of  the  style  of  this 
matchless  orator,  or,  by  what  we  have  said  of  it,  may 
lead  some  of  our  readers  to  seek  out  the  original, 
and  peruse  it  for  themselves,   it  will  be  enough. 

182 


BOSSUET 

This  masterpiece  of  commemorative  eloquence, 
given  in  August,  1670,  marks  the  culminating  point 
in  Bossuet's  career  as  a  preacher.  For  more  than 
thirty  years  subsequently  he  continued  to  exercise 
his  great  gifts  and  attainments  in  the  pulpit.  He 
was  the  leader  of  the  Church  of  France  in  his  time — 
more  potent  in  its  affairs  than  the  Pope  himself. 
To  the  end  of  his  life  he  continued  to  be  a  student 
and  a  learner,  taking  up  the  study  of  Hebrew  in  his 
later  years,  and  achieving  a  laudable  scholarship 
in  it,  that  he  might  be  a  better  interpreter  of  the 
Bible.  His  vigor  and  vitality  seemed  to  be  unfailing; 
so  that  when,  at  length,  he  died,  men  were  aston- 
ished, it  is  said,  at  "this  mortal's  mortality." 

Our  purpose  has  been,  not  to  give  a  panSgyrique 
upon  Bossuet,  but  an  etude — a  study  of  him  as  a 
pulpit  orator,  and  of  the  methods  by  which  he  made 
himself  such.  His  character  was  by  no  means 
faultless,  nor  his  life  blameless.  His  treatment  of 
Mme.  Guyon  was  harsh;  of  Fenelon,  ungenerous. 
In  his  discussions  with  Protestants  he  was  not  quite 
fair,  and  so  his  polemic  triumphs  were  delusive.  The 
truth  cannot  be  determined  by  fallacious  arguments 
nor  settled  by  the  plaudits  of  admirers.  Nothing 
is  settled  until  it  is  settled  aright.  The  questions  in 
controversy  will  recur  until  the  demands  of  truth 
and  justice  are  met.  Bossuet  also  rests  under  the 
stigma  of  having  approved  the  Revocation  of  the 
Edict  of  Nantes,  and  for  that  cruel  act,  by  which 
Louis  XIV.  dispeopled  his  kingdom  of  his  choicest 
subjects,  and  drove  fifteen  hundred  thousands  of 
them  into  exile,  despair,  or  falsehood,  Bossuet  lauded 

188 


NINE  GREAT  PREACHERS 

him  for  "piety,"  and  placed  Louis  "among  the  peers 
of  Const antine  and  Theodosius."  These  are  great 
blemishes  upon  Bossuet's  good  name;  but  they  are 
faults  to  which  good  men  are  liable  in  an  intolerant 
age.  Luther,  whom  Bossuet  resembled  in  several 
respects,  was  dishonored  by  them.  Guizot,  a 
staunch  Protestant,  characterizes  Bossuet,  however, 
as,  for  his  time,  "moderate  and  prudent  in  conduct 
as  well  as  opinions,"  though  his  moderation  "did 
not  keep  out  injustice."  On  the  whole  our  study 
of  Bossuet  has  led  us  to  accept  as  just  the  estimate 
of  M.  Gandar.  He  says:  "In  trying  to  account 
for  the  admiration  of  his  genius,  I  have  learned  to 
honor  Bossuet's  character.  While  not  daring  to 
say  that  Fenelon  thought  of  him,  when  he  defined 
an  orator  as  one  *gm  ne  se  sert  de  la  "parole  que  pour 
la  pensee  et  de  la  pensee  que  pour  la  verite  et  la  vertu,' 
assuredly  Bossuet  fulfilled  this  idea  in  his  best 
preaching,  as  in  his  Car  erne  du  Louvre." 

In  conclusion :  An  interesting  question  of  supreme 
importance  is  here  pressed  upon  our  attention  as 
worthy  of  consideration.  How  did  it  happen  that  the 
"Golden  Age  of  the  French  Pulpit,"  in  which  Bos- 
suet, Fenelon,  Bourdaloue,  and  Massillon  preached 
with  such  remarkable  eloquence,  remained,  in  spite 
of  their  preaching,  notoriously  wicked,  dissolute 
and  godless?  Why  were  there  no  spiritual  or  moral 
results  worthy  of  such  pulpit  fame.^  Those  great 
preachers  ought  to  have  wrought,  one  naturally 
thinks,  a  great  reformation  in  morals,  and  a  great 
improvement  in  the  religious  tone  and  character 
of   French   society.     But   this   natural   expectation 

184 


BOSSUET 

was  not  realized.  Compared  with  the  preaching 
of  Baxter  and  other  Puritan  divines,  or  with  the 
preaching  of  Whitefield  and  the  Wesleys,  the  preach- 
ing of  Bossuet  and  his  illustrious  contemporaries 
of  the  French  pulpit  was  barren  and  fruitless.  Its 
unfruitfulness  does  not  seem  to  us  entirely  due,  or 
mainly  due,  to  the  difference  in  doctrine,  or  because 
the  doctrine  of  the  French  preachers  was  Catholic 
and  that  of  the  English  preachers,  Protestant, 
though  this  probably  would  be  taken  into  account 
by  some.  We  believe  that  in  spite  of  the  errors, 
from  a  Protestant  standpoint,  of  the  French  Roman 
Catholicism  of  that  day,  it  contained  Christian  truth 
enough  if  heeded,  to  convert  men  from  their  sin 
and  develop  in  them  genuine  piety  and  beautiful 
Christian  characters.  The  holy  lives  and  the 
Christian  characters  of  Fenelon,  De  Saci,  Arnauld, 
"Mother"  Angelica,  and  other  famous  Post  Royal- 
ists prove  this. 

The  reason  why  the  preaching  of  those  great 
pulpit  orators  was  so  barren  of  good  fruit  was  due, 
we  think,  to  the  artificial  and  frivolous  character 
of  their  age  joined  to  the  corrupting  influence  of 
the  French  king  and  his  court.  Affectation  and 
vain  display,  insincerity  and  religious  hypocrisy  were 
found  everywhere,  in  the  court,  in  the  army,  in  the 
salons,  and  even  in  the  assemblies  of  public  worship. 
Life  was  like  a  theatrical  performance.  It  lacked 
the  ring  of  sincerity  and  reality;  it  was  not  taken 
seriously.  Genuineness  of  action  or  speech  was  rare. 
This  characteristic  of  the  times  made  the  French 
people,  in  Paris  especially,  and  in  the  social  atmos- 

185 


NINE   GREAT  PREACHERS 

phere  of  the  court  at  Versailles  and  elsewhere,  not 
ashamed  to  amuse  themselves  with  sacred  things, 
ready  to  entertain  themselves  with  the  preaching 
of  a  precocious  youth  in  the  salons  of  the  fashionable 
quarter,  and  with  the  eloquent  sermons  of  the  great 
preachers  in  the  chapels  of  the  palaces,  and  in  the 
churches  and  cathedrals  of  the  city.  The  preachers 
could  not  but  feel  the  demoralizing  influence  of 
this  wide-spread  atmosphere  of  insincerity.  Aware 
of  the  seductive  influence  of  flattery,  and  of  the  ad- 
miration and  applause  of  the  great,  they  really 
tried  to  resist  it,  but  in  spite  of  all  they  could  do, 
it  dulled  the  edge  and  diminished  the  power  of  their 
preaching.  Their  earnest  and  sincere  endeavors 
were  thus  frustrated. 

The  preaching  of  the  pulpit  surely  reflects  the 
character  and  sentiments  of  the  auditory.  If  the 
hearers  habitually  regard  it  as  a  fictitious  per- 
formance, they  make  it  so  and  it  degenerates  into 
rhetorical  cant.  There  is  a  great  difference  between 
speaking  to  an  audience,  like  a  prophet  with  a  divine 
message,  and  speaking  before  an  audience  like  an 
actor  for  their  entertainment.  In  the  one  case,  the 
speaking  is  a  genuine  message  that  commands  atten- 
tion, convicts  and  persuades,  and  results  in  appro- 
priate action;  in  the  other,  a  make-believe  utterance 
that  produces  no  deep  or  permanent  moral  effect. 

The  king,  Louis  XIV,  was  chiefly  to  blame  for  all 
this.  Vain,  imperious,  worldly-minded,  selfish  mon- 
arch that  he  was,  fond  of  adulation  and  bent  upon  the 
gratification  of  his  lust  of  power  and  of  sensual 
pleasure,  there  was  no  sincere  desire  in  his  heart  to 

186 


BOSSUET 

hear  God's  truth  or  to  obey  it.  His  seeming  piety 
was  a  sham,  his  apparent  interest  in  the  preaching 
of  the  gospel  by  the  great  preachers  of  his  age  only 
the  interest  of  a  playgoer  in  consummate  acting. 
As  with  the  king,  so  with  his  courtiers  and  the  fash- 
ionable people  who  thronged  the  royal  chapels  and 
the  churches.  They  too  regarded  the  sermons  of 
the  preachers  as  something  like  a  theatrical  per- 
formance, only  a  pleasant  entertainment.  Their 
eloquent  appeals  and  exhortations  might  generally 
be  admired  for  their  rhetorical  splendor,  but  few 
took  them  seriously  to  heart.  The  preachers  knew 
that  this  would  be  the  case,  and  they  were  disheart- 
ened in  their  endeavors  to  have  it  otherwise.  They 
could  not,  they  finally  did  not,  expect  the  spiritual 
results  that  would  have  been  looked  for  under  differ- 
ent psychological  conditions.  Their  preaching  lacked 
the  notes  of  earnestness  and  sincerity  that  marked 
the  preaching  of  Bernard  of  Clairvaux,  Luther,  and 
Baxter.  It  was  artificial  to  a  degree  that  is  trace- 
able in  their  published  sermons,  but  of  which  quality 
there  is  no  trace  in  these  preachers.  "I  would  as 
soon  doubt  the  gospel's  verity,"  says  Coleridge,  "as 
the  sincerity  of  Baxter."  Sincerity,  the  downright 
sincerity  of  an  earnest  soul  that  speaks  from  a  heart 
throbbing  with  emotion  its  message  of  salvation, 
which  has  been  tested  in  its  own  experience  and  been 
found  blessedly  true,  this  must  characterize  the 
preacher  w^hose  ministry  of  the  Gospel  is  attended 
with  great  reformations  of  religion  and  morals. 
It  marked  the  ministries  of  those  great  preachers 
whose  characters  and  careers  we  have  previously 

187 


NINE   GREAT  PREACHERS 

sketched;  it  might  have  marked  that  of  Bossuet 
could  he  have  resolutely  risen  by  the  assured  help 
and  grace  of  God  above  the  general  insincerity  of 
his  nation  at  that  time.  Failing  to  do  this,  succumb- 
ing weakly  to  its  demoralizing  influence,  he  failed 
of  the  highest  result,  though  inferior  to  none  of 
those  preachers  in  natural  gifts  and  rare  accomplish- 
ments, and  the  purity  of  his  original  aims. 


188 


¥1 

JOHN  BUNYAN 


VI 
JOHN  BUNYAN 

1628-1688 

Among  the  old  English  divines  of  the  Anglican 
Church,  there  were  men  of  great  genius,  eloquence, 
and  learning.  Such  were  Richard  Hooker,  Joseph 
Hall,  Thomas  Fuller,  and  Jeremy  Taylor;  but  Dr. 
Thomas  Arnold  says:  'T  hold  John  Bunyan  to  have 
been  a  man  of  incomparably  greater  genius  than  any 
of  them,  and  to  have  given  a  far  truer  and  more 
edifying  picture  of  Christianity." 

This  man  of  extraordinary  genius,  however,  was 
born  in  the  humblest  class  of  society  and  had  but 
few  educational  advantages.  *T  never  went  to 
school,"  he  says,  "to  Aristotle  and  Plato,  but  was 
brought  up  in  my  father's  house  in  a  very  mean 
condition  among  a  company  of  poor  countrymen." 
Born  November  30,  1628,  at  Elstow,  Bedfordshire, 
into  the  family  of  a  tinker,  "of  that  rank  that  is 
meanest  and  most  despised  of  all  the  families  in  the 
land,"  as  he  says,  and  brought  up  by  his  father  to  the 
same  calling,  the  whole  extent  of  his  acquisitions 
from  the  poor  instruction  and  brief  school  days  given 
him,  was  "to  read  and  write  according  to  the  rate 
of  other  poor  men's  children."  But  God  plants  a 
great  mind  where  he  will,   and  gives  the  highest 

191 


NINE  GREAT  PREACHERS 

powers  of  intellectual  and  moral  achievement  to 
people  dwelling  in  the  most  unequal  and  diverse 
conditions.  Rome  had  two  illustrious  moralists,  of 
about  equal  eminence,  who  stood  high  above  all 
others;  one  was  the  slave  Epictetus,  and  the  other 
the  Emperor  Marcus  Aurelius.  God  made  the 
slave  the  teacher  and  peer  of  the  emperor  in  genius 
and  virtue,  to  show  men  that  in  the  bestowal  of  his 
highest  and  best  gifts  he  is  no  respecter  of  persons. 
Bunyan's  genius  was  developed  and  trained  in  the 
school  of  Providence.  It  came  slowly  to  maturity, 
and  to  the  glorious  fruitage  it  finally  yielded  only 
by  the  hard  and  various  discipline  of  sin  and  remorse, 
of  a  wonderful  experience  of  God's  grace,  and  the 
vicissitudes  of  family  affliction,  a  soldier's  life, 
poverty,  religious  persecution  and  long  imprison- 
ment for  conscience  sake,  where  celestial  visions 
brightened  his  dreary  captivity  as  with  the  glory  of 
heaven,  and  qualified  him  to  write  his  immortal 
allegory,  "The  Pilgrim's  Progress,"  which  Thomas 
Arnold  extols  for  its  "edifying  picture  of  Christian- 
ity," "with  none  of  the  rubbish  of  the  theologians 
mixed  up  with  it." 

Among  his  lesser  writings  is  an  autobiography, 
which  he  entitled  "Grace  Abounding,"  that  is  similar 
in  character  and  the  nature  of  its  interest  to  Augus- 
tine's "Confessions."  This  small  book,  which  one 
could  read  in  three  or  four  hours,  might  be  called, 
"The  history  of  a  benighted  soul  in  its  struggles  to 
find  the  light."  The  struggles  it  describes  are  mainly 
those  of  the  spirit  with  sin  and  doubts  and  fears. 
All  else  that  happened  in  the  course  of  his  life  he 

192 


JOHN  BUNYAN 

seems  to  have  reckoned  of  little  account.  It  was 
the  age  of  Cromwell  and  the  great  civil  war.  He 
scarcely  refers,  however,  to  the  stirring  events  of 
his  age,  of  which  he  was  a  spectator,  or  in  which  he 
was  an  actor,  or  a  listener  to  the  talk  about  him. 
He  gives  no  dates,  he  mentions  only  a  few  localities, 
he  alludes  to  but  few  of  the  exciting  things  then 
occurring  in  the  world.  He  confines  his  narrative 
almost  entirely  to  things  that  had  some  close  relation 
to  his  spiritual  development.  *'Time  and  place, 
outward  circumstances  and  passing  incidents,  were 
nothing  to  him,  about  whom  fell  alternately  the 
shadows  of  hell  and  the  splendors  of  heaven."  The 
estimate  of  Bunyan,  in  this  personal  review  of  his 
life,  as  to  what  was  most  important  and  valuable  in 
his  experience,  has  come  to  be  accepted  by  the 
world  as  its  own.  The  supreme  interest  of  his  life 
is  found  in  the  vehement  spiritual  struggles  he  has 
here  graphically  depicted,  and  it  is  particularly 
instructive  as  revealing  the  manner  in  which  the 
Christian  faith  lifted  him,  and  may  lift  any  miserable 
sinful  man,  out  of  a  wretched  condition,  and  exalt 
him  to  a  place  of  honor  and  happiness. 

Taking  up  some  of  the  most  notable  things  in  this 
sketch  of  his  past  life,  it  is  pleasing  to  observe  that 
while  confessing  his  humble  birth,  he  speaks  respect- 
fully of  his  parents  and  of  their  willingness  to  do  for 
his  welfare  all  they  could.  He  is  not  ashamed  of 
them,  or  of  the  social  condition  he  inherited  from 
them.  "Though  I  have  naught  to  boast,"  he  says, 
"of  noble  blood,  or  of  a  high-born  state,  according 
to  the  flesh,  all  things  considered,  I  magnify  the 

13  193 


NINE   GREAT  PREACHERS 

heavenly  Majesty  that  by  this  door  he  brought  me 
into  this  world." 

According  to  his  own  account  of  himself  as  a  boy, 
youth,  and  young  man,  he  was  a  rough,  reckless,  and 
most  unpromising  young  fellow: — 

"I  had  but  few  equals  for  cursing,  swearing,  lying,  and  blas- 
pheming the  holy  name  of  God." 

"So  settled  and  rooted  was  I  in  these  things,  that  they  became 
as  a  second  nature  to  me.     .     .     ." 

".  .  .  so  that  until  I  came  to  the  state  of  marriage,  I  was 
the  very  ringleader  of  all  the  youth  that  kept  me  company,  in  all 
manner  of  vice  and  ungodliness." 

Naturally  his  influence  upon  his  companions  was 
very  pernicious.  "I  was  one  of  the  great  sin- 
breeders,"  he  says,  "the  neighbors  counted  me  so, 
my  own  practice  proved  me  so."  He  tells  how  one 
day  as  he 

"was  standing  at  a  neighbor's  shop-window,  and  there  cursing 
and  swearing  and  playing  the  madman,  after  my  wonted  manner, 
there  sat  within  the  woman  of  the  house  and  heard  me;  who, 
though  she  was  a  very  loose  and  ungodly  wretch,  yet  protested 
that  I  cursed  and  swore  at  that  most  fearfid  rate  that  she  was 
made  to  tremble  to  hear  me;  and  told  me  further,  that  I  was  the 
ungodliest  fellow  for  swearing  that  she  ever  heard  in  all  her  life, 
and  that  I  by  thus  doing  was  able  to  spoil  all  the  youth  in  the 
whole  town,  if  they  came  but  in  my  company." 

From  these  passages  and  others  found  in  his 
writings  in  regard  to  the  sins  of  his  youth  and  early 
manhood,  it  might  be  supposed  that  he  was  guilty  of 
nearly  all  the  sins  forbidden  in  the  decalogue.  But 
this  would  be  a  mistake.  When  those  who  wished  to 
discredit  him  as  a  preacher  and  religious  writer 
accused  him  of  unchastity,  he  replied: — 

194 


JOHN  BUNYAN 

"My  foes  have  missed  their  mark  in  this;  I  am  not  the  man. 
.  .  .  If  all  the  fornicators  and  adulterers  in  England  were 
hanged  by  the  neck  till  they  were  dead,  John  Bunyan,  the  object 
of  their  envy,  would  be  still  alive  and  well." 

Macaulay,  Froude  and  some  other  writers  have 
expressed  the  opinion  that  the  sins  for  which  Bunyan 
so  severely  condemned  himself,  were,  excepting  his 
shocking  profanity,  but  trivial  offenses,  like  playing 
ball  or  "cat"  on  Sunday,  and  ringing  the  church 
bell  on  festive  occasions,  which  his  morbid  conscience 
magnified  into  great  proofs  of  wickedness;  but 
faults  graver  than  these  seem  implied  in  the  words: 
"Had  not  a  miracle  of  precious  grace  prevented,  I 
had  not  only  perished  by  the  stroke  of  Eternal 
Justice,  but  had  also  laid  myself  open  even  to  the 
stroke  of  those  laws  which  bring  some  to  disgrace 
and  open  shame  before  the  face  of  the  world."  If 
sorrow  could  have  sobered  and  subdued  him,  its 
discipline  was  not  lacking.  In  his  sixteenth  year, 
his  mother  died,  and  a  favorite  sister,  a  month 
later.  Shortly  after,  he  joined  the  Parliamentary 
Army,  "a  finishing  school  to  the  hardened  sin- 
ner," he  says.  He  was  at  the  siege  of  Leicester 
and  probably  in  the  desperately  fought  battle  of 
Naseby. 

"WTien  I  was  a  soldier  [he  says],  I,  with  others,  was  dra\\Ti  to 
go  to  such  a  place  to  besiege  it;  but  when  I  was  just  ready  to 
go,  one  of  the  company  desired  to  go  in  my  room;  to  which, 
when  I  consented,  he  took  my  place;  and  coming  to  the  siege, 
as  he  stood  sentinel,  he  was  shot  in  the  head  with  a  musket  ball, 
and  died. 

"Here  were  judgments  and  mercy;  but  neither  of  them  did 
awaken  my  soul  to  righteousness." 

195 


NINE  GREAT  PREACHERS 

Going  home  from  the  war,  he  married.  The 
young  couple  were  so  poor  that  they  did  "not  have 
so  much  household  stuff  as  a  dish  or  spoon  between 
us  both."  But  his  wife  brought  him,  notwithstand- 
ing, a  precious  dowry — the  memory  of  a  godly  father 
and  pious  home,  and  two  religious  books,  *'The  Plain 
Man's  Pathway  to  Heaven"  and  "The  Practice  of 
Piety,"  which  had  a  wide  circulation  in  those  days. 
These  books  he  read  with  his  wife,  and  they  made  a 
deep  impression  on  his  mind.  Their  influence, 
joined  to  that  of  his  wife,  produced  in  him  a  notable 
outward  reformation,  and  a  show  of  piety  and 
religious  zeal  that  led  him 

"to  go  to  church  twice  a  day,  .  .  .  and  there  very  devoutly 
both  say  and  sing,  as  others  did.  ...  I  adored  .  .  . 
all  things  belonging  to  the  church,  the  high  place,  priest,  clerk, 
vestment,  service  and  what  else." 

".  .  .  .  Then  I  thought  I  pleased  God  as  well  as  any 
man  in  England.  My  neighbors  were  amazed  at  this  my 
great  conversion,  from  prodigious  profanity,  to  something  like 
a  moral  life;  and,  truly,  so  they  well  might  be,  for  this,  my  con- 
version, was  as  great  as  for  Tom  of  Bedlam  to  become  a  sober 
man." 

Nevertheless  he  says, — 

".  .  .  as  yet  I  was  nothing  but  a  painted  hypocrite. 
.  .  .  I  did  all  I  did,  either  to  be  seen  of,  or  to  be  well 
spoken  of  by  men.     .     .     ." 

".  .  .  I  was  all  this  while  ignorant  of  Jesus  Christ;  and 
going  about  to  establish  my  own  righteousness;  and  had  perished 
therein,  had  not  God  in  mercy  showed  me  more  of  my  state  by 
nature. " 

Finding  in  the  Scriptures  that  the  Israelites  were 
accounted  God's  chosen  people,  he  thought:   "If  I 

196 


JOHN  BUNYAN 

were  one  of  this  race,  my  soul  must  needs  be  happy"; 
and  he  tried  to  make  out  that  he  was  of  Hebrew 
descent,  but  his  father,  who  had  no  desire  to  be 
thought  a  Jew,  gave  such  an  emphatic  negative  to 
his  aspirations  and  inquiries  in  this  direction  that 
he  was  forced  to  give  them  up. 

"But  God  [he  says],  the  great,  the  rich,  the  infinitely  merciful 
God  did  not  take  advantage  of  my  so  ill  to  cast  me  away,  but 
followed  me  still,  and  won  my  heart  by  giving  me  some  under- 
standing, not  only  of  my  miserable  state,  w^hich  I  was  very  sensi- 
ble of,  but  also  that  there  might  be  hopes  of  mercy;  taking  away 
my  love  to  lust  and  placing  in  the  room  thereof  a  holy  love  of 
religion.  Thus  the  Lord  won  my  heart  to  some  desire  to  hear 
the  word,  to  grow  a  stranger  to  my  old  companions,  and  to  ac- 
company the  people  of  God,  giving  me  many  sweet  encourage- 
ments from  several  promises  in  the  Scriptures." 

Of  Bunyan  it  may  be  truly  said  that  he  was,  to  a 
rare  degree,  a  Providential  man,  *'a  chosen  vessel," 
like  the  apostle  Paul,  shaped  by  God  for  a  great 
work.  It  is  not  possible  to  understand  his  remark- 
able character  and  career,  or  his  vast  influence  for 
good  as  a  preacher  and  writer,  except  we  have  this 
conception  of  him.  This  alone  can  explain  the 
various  agencies  used  by  Providence  to  bring  him 
"out  of  darkness  into  his  marvelous  light,"  to  train 
and  fit  him  for  his  appointed  mission  of  teacher  of 
practical  Christianity  to  the  world,  especially  to 
common  people. 

Three  of  these  agencies  may  be  particularized  as 
most  prominent  and  worthy  of  mention.  They  were 
a  group  of  poor  women  of  Bedford,  the  Bible,  and 
the  religious  persecution  of  the  Anglican  Church  in 
that  day,  by  which  he  was  shut  up  in  prison. 

197 


NINE  GREAT  PREACHERS 

Of  his  introduction  to  those  poor  women  and  the 
good  he  received  from  them,  Bunyan  himself  thus 
tells  us: — 

"Upon  a  day,  the  good  providence  of  God  called  me  to  Bed- 
ford, to  work  on  my  calling;  and  in  one  of  the  streets  of  that 
town,  I  came  where  there  were  three  or  four  poor  women  sitting 
at  a  door,  in  the  sun,  talking  about  the  things  of  God;  and  being 
now  willing  to  hear  their  discourse,  I  drew  near  to  hear  what 
they  said,  for  I  was  now  a  brisk  talker  in  the  matters  of  religion; 
but  I  may  say,  /  heard,  hut  understood  not;  for  they  were  far 
above,  out  of  my  reach.     .     .     . 

"Methought  they  spake  as  if  joy  did  make  them  speak;  they 
spake  with  such  pleasantness  of  Scripture  language,  and  with 
such  appearance  of  grace  in  all  they  said,  that  they  w^ere  to  me, 
as  if  they  had  found  a  new  world;  as  if  they  v/ere  'people  that 
dwelt  alone,  and  were  not  to  he  reckoned  among  their  neighhors.'' 

"When  I  had  heard  and  considered  what  they  said  I  left  them, 
and  went  about  my  employment  again,  but  their  talk  and  dis- 
course icent  ivith  me,  .  .  .  for  I  was  greatly  affected  with 
their  words,  both  because  by  them  I  was  convinced  that  I  wanted 
the  true  tokens  of  a  truly  godly  man,  and  also  because  by  them 
I  was  convinced  of  the  happy  and  blessed  condition  of  him  that 
was  such  a  one. 

"Therefore  I  would  often  make  it  my  business  to  be  going 
again  and  again  into  the  company  of  these  poor  people;  for  I 
could  not  stay  away ;  and  the  more  I  went  among  them  the  more 
I  did  question  my  condition:  and  .  .  .  presently  I  found 
two  things  within  me,  at  which  I  did  sometimes  marvel.  .  .  . 
The  one  was  a  very  great  softness  and  tenderness  of  heart,  which 
caused  me  to  fall  under  the  conviction  of  what  by  Scripture  they 
asserted;  and  the  other  was  a  great  bending  in  my  mind,  to  a 
continual  meditating  upon  it,  and  on  all  other  good  things  which 
at  any  time  I  heard  or  read  of." 

"About  this  time  the  state  and  happiness  of  these  poor  people 
at  Bedford  was  thus,  in  a  kind  of  vision,  presented  to  me.  I 
saw  as  if  they  were  on  the  sunny  side  of  some  high  mountain, 

198 


JOHN  BUNYAN 

there  refreshing  themselves  with  tlie  pleasant  beams  of  the  sun, 
while  I  was  shivering  and  shrinking  in  the  cold,  afflicted  with 
frost,  snow,  and  dark  clouds;  methought  also,  betwixt  me  and 
them  I  saw  a  wall  that  did  compass  about  this  mountain.  Now 
through  this  wall  mj^  soul  did  greatly  desire  to  pass;  concluding 
that  if  I  could  I  would  even  go  into  the  very  midst  of  them,  and 
there  also  comfort  myself  with  the  heat  of  their  sun. 

"About  this  wall  I  bethought  myself  to  go  again  and  again, 
still  praying  as  I  went,  to  see  if  I  could  find  some  way  or  passage 
by  which  I  might  enter  therein;  at  the  last,  I  saw,  as  it  were,  a 
narrow  gap,  like  a  little  doorway  in  the  wall,  through  which  I 
attempted  to  pass.  .  .  .  With  great  striving,  methought  I 
at  first  did  get  in  my  head,  and  after  that  by  a  sidelong  striving, 
my  shoulders  and  my  whole  body :  then  I  was  exceeding  glad, 
went  and  sat  down  in  the  midst  of  them,  and  so  was  comforted 
with  the  light  and  heat  of  their  sun. 

"Now  this  mountain,  and  wall,  etc.,  was  thus  made  out  to  me: 
The  mountain  signified  the  church  of  the  living  God;  the  sun 
that  shone  thereon,  the  comfortable  shining  of  his  merciful  face 
on  them  that  were  therein;  the  wall  I  thought  was  the  world, 
that  did  make  separation  betwixt  the  Christians  and  the  world, 
and  the  gap  which  was  in  the  wall,  I  thought,  was  Jesus  Christ, 
who  is  the  way  to  God  the  Father.  But  forasmuch  as  the  pass- 
sage  was  wonderful  narrow,  even  so  narrow  that  I  could  not  but 
with  great  difficulty  enter  in  thereat,  it  shov/ed  that  none  could 
enter  into  life  but  those  that  were  in  downright  earnest,  and 
unless  also  they  left  that  wicked  world  behind  them;  for  here 
was  only  room  for  body  and  soul,  but  not  for  body  and  soul  and 
sin." 

This  passage  from  the  story  of  his  rehgious  experi- 
ence, in  '''Grace  Abounding,"  is  interesting  for  several 
things.  It  is  interesting  in  itself  for  the  truth  it 
contains;  for  its  illustration  of  the  benefit  that  a 
seeker  after  God  may  receive  from  the  conversation 
and  society  of  pious  people,  no  matter  how  poor  and 
humble;  and  for  the  disclosure  it  makes  of  Bunyan's 

199 


NINE   GREAT  PREACHERS 

native  bias  and  imaginative  faculty  of  translating 
his  religious  experiences,  of  various  sorts,  into  clear 
and  picturesque  allegories,  attractive  and  illuminat- 
ing to  the  mind  and  convincing  to  the  heart.  We 
shall  have  other  interesting  examples  of  this.  They 
all  go  to  show  by  what  steps,  by  what  spiritual  con- 
flicts and  agony  of  soul,  and  by  what  Providential 
teaching  and  discipline  the  immortal  dreamer  be- 
came qualified  to  write  'The  Pilgrim's  Progress." 
In  "Grace  Abounding"  we  have  the  preliminary 
rehearsal  that  prepared  the  way  for  it.  It  was 
based  in  actual  fact,  and  distressful  as  are  the  facts 
of  real  life.  It  was  no  such  stuff  as  ordinary  dreams 
are  made  of — the  fictions  of  fancy.  Its  production 
was  by  conditions  and  processes  analogous  to  those 
by  which  a  diamond  or  some  other  precious  gem  is 
produced  through  the  intense  heat  of  internal  fires, 
and  the  tremendous  pressure  of  the  weight  of  moun- 
tains. "Those  poor  people  in  Bedford,  to  whom 
I  began  to  break  my  mind,"  he  says,  told  Mr.  Gif- 
ford,  their  pastor,  a  dissenting  minister,  about  him, 
who  "took  all  occasion  to  talk  with  me,"  and  "whose 
doctrine,  by  God's  grace,  was  much  for  my  stability." 
Mr.  Gifford  himself,  after  leading  a  wild,  wicked,  and 
stormy  life,  as  soldier,  gambler,  and  criminal,  had 
experienced  a  remarkable  conversion,  which,  com- 
bined with  unusual  gifts  of  mind,  gave  him  skill  in 
the  treatment  of  souls. 

"This  man  [says  Bunyan]  made  it  much  his  business  to  deliver 
the  people  of  God  from  all  those  hard  and  unsound  tests  that 
by  nature  we  are  prone  to.  He  would  bid  us  take  special  heed 
that  we  took  not  up  any  truth  upon  trust;  as  from  this,  or  that, 

200 


JOHN  BUNYAN 

or  any  other  man  or  men,  but  cry  mightily  to  God  that  he  would 
convince  us  of  the  reaHty  thereof,  and  set  us  down  by  his  own 
Spirit  in  the  Holy  Word;  'for  (said  he)  if  you  do  otherwise, 
when  temptation  comes  (if  strongly)  upon  you,  you  not  having 
received  them  (the  truths  of  religion)  with  evidence  from  heaven, 
will  find  you  want  that  help  and  strength  now  to  resist  that  once 
you  thought  you  had.' 

"This  [says  Bunyan]  was  as  seasonable  to  my  soul  as  the  for- 
mer and  latter  rains  in  their  season;  for  I  had  found,  and  that 
by  sad  experience,  the  truth  of  his  words.  .  .  .  Wherefore 
I  found  my  soul,  through  grace,  very  apt  to  drink  in  this  doc- 
trine, and  to  incline  to  praj^  to  God,  that  in  nothing  that  per- 
tained to  God's  glory  and  my  own  eternal  happiness,  he  would 
suffer  me  to  be  without  the  confirmation  thereof  from  heaven; 
for  now  I  saw  clearly,  there  was  an  exceeding  difference  betwixt 
the  notion  of  the  flesh  and  blood,  and  the  revelation  of  God  in 
heaven;  also  a  great  difference  betwixt  that  faith  that  is  feigned, 
and  according  to  man's  wisdom,  and  that  which  comes  by  a 
man's  being  born  thereto  of  God. 

"But,  oh!  now,  how  was  my  soul  led  from  truth  to  truth  by 
God!" 

This  leading  of  his  soul  "from  truth  to  truth  by 
God,"  over  which  he  thus  exclaims,  and  which  is 
graphically  described  by  him  in  "Grace  Abounding," 
has  great  interest  and  value  for  the  illustration  it 
gives  concerning  the  help  afforded  by  the  Sacred 
Scriptures,  when  accepted  and  firmly  believed  in  as 
the  revelation  of  God  and  an  infallible  authority  as 
to  religious  truth,  in  the  guidance  and  confirmation 
of  the  soul  seeking  to  know  this  truth.  Led  by  the 
influence  of  "those  poor  Bedford  women"  to  new 
diligence  in  its  study,  "I  began  to  look  into  the  Bible 
with  new  eyes,"  he  says,  "and  read  as  I  never  did 
before;  especially  the  Epistles  of  the  Apostle  Paul 
were  sweet  and  pleasant  to  me;    and,  indeed,  then 

201 


NINE   GREAT  PREACHERS 

I  was  never  out  of  the  Bible,  either  by  reading  or 
meditation;  still  crying  out  to  God  that  I  might 
know  the  truth  and  the  way  to  heaven  and  glory." 
It  is  interesting  to  observe,  from  his  case,  how  the 
Bible  so  studied  may  light  up  the  way,  step  by  step, 
of  an  earnest  inquirer  until  he  arrives  at  a  state  of 
peace  and  settled  joy  from  the  happy  assurance  of 
God's  forgiveness  and  unchangeable  love. 

We  give  the  following  two  examples,  selected  from 
many : — 

"One  day  as  I  was  walking  in  the  country,  I  was  much  in  the 
thoughts  of  this  question,  'But  how  if  the  day  of  grace  is  past?' 
And  to  aggravate  my  trouble,  the  tempter  presented  to  my  mind 
those  good  people  of  Bedford  and  suggested  to  me:  that  these 
being  converted  already  they  were  all  that  God  would  save  in 
these  parts,  and  that  I  came  too  late.  Now  I  was  in  great  dis- 
tress thinldng  this  might  well  be  so;  wherefore  I  went  up  and 
down  bemoaning  my  sad  condition  .  .  .  crying  out,  'Oh 
that  I  had  turned  sooner!'  When  I  had  been  long  vexed  with 
this,  these  words  broke  in  upon  my  mind,  'Compel  them  to  come 
in,  that  my  house  may  be  filled;  and  yet  there  is  room.' 

"Those  words,  especially  these,  'And  yet  there  is  room,'  were 
sweet  words  to  me,  for  I  thought  bj^  them  I  saw  there  was  place 
enough  in  heaven  for  me,  and,  moreover,  that  when  the  Lord 
Jesus  did  speak  these  words,  he  then  did  think  of  me;  and  that 
he  knowing  that  the  time  would  come  that  I  should  be  afflicted 
with  fear  that  there  was  no  place  left  for  me  in  his  bosom,  did 
before  speak  this  word  and  leave  it  upon  record  that  I  might 
find  help  thereby  against  this  temptation." 

Another  question  that  greatly  troubled  him  was, 
"How  can  you  tell  that  you  are  elected?" 

"It  may  be  that  you  are  not,  said  the  tempter;  it  may  be  so 
indeed,  thought  I.  Why  then,  said  Satan,  you  had  as  good 
leave  off,  and  strive  no  farther.     ...     By  these  things  I  was 

202 


JOHN  BUNYAN 

driven  to  my  wits  end,  not  knowing  what  to  say,  or  how  to  an- 
swer these  temptations." 

He  obtained  relief  from  his  distress,  chiefly,  from 
John  vi.  37:  "And  him  that  cometh  to  me  I  will  in 
no  wise  cast  out." 

"This  scripture  [he  says]  did  most  sweetly  visit  my  soul.  Oh! 
the  comfort  that  I  had  from  this  word,  *in  no  wise!'  As  who 
should  say,  'By  no  means,  for  nothing  whatever  he  hath  done.' 
But  Satan  would  greatly  labor  to  pull  this  promise  from  me, 
telling  me,  'That  Christ  did  not  mean  me  and  such  as  I,  but  sin- 
ners of  a  lower  rank  that  had  not  done  as  I  had  done.'  But  I 
would  answer  him,  'Satan,  there  is  in  these  words  no  such  excep- 
tion; but  him  that  comes,  him,  any  him.'  If  ever  Satan  and  I 
did  strive  for  any  word  of  God  in  all  my  life,  it  was  for  this  good 
word  of  Christ;  he  at  one  end,  and  I  at  the  other.  Oh!  what 
work  we  made!  It  was  for  this  in  John,  I  say,  that  we  did  so 
tug  and  strive;  he  pulled  and  I  pulled;  but  God  be  praised!  I 
overcame  him!     I  got  sweetness  from  it." 

Time  and  space  forbid  our  citing  other  instances 
from  this  interesting  chronicle  of  Bunyan's  various 
experiences.  It  contains  passages  of  sublime  reli- 
gious sentiment  and  pathos,  and  sheds  by  its  vivid 
pictures  of  alternating  religious  despondency  and 
exaltation,  of  fear  and  hope,  of  remorse  and  ecstatic 
joy,  considerable  light  upon  a  subject  that  is  attract- 
ing much  attention  in  our  day — the  subject  of  Psy- 
chotherapy. It  has  a  psychological  as  well  as 
religious  interest,  and,  carefully  studied,  will  afford 
the  Christian  minister  and  the  physician  alite  val- 
uable suggestions  as  to  right  methods  of  dealing 
with  troubled  souls. 

Most  of  Bunyan's  prolonged  darkness  of  mind  and 
spiritual  distress  arose,  we  think,  from  his  morbid 

203 


NINE   GREAT  PREACHERS 

self -consciousness,  due  in  great  part  to  the  habit  of 
introspection  (practised  by  religious  people  to  excess 
in  those  times),  which  led  him  to  fix  his  thoughts  on 
himself  and  the  feelings  of  his  heart  for  the  evidence 
of  acceptance  with  God,  instead  of  fixing  them  on 
Christ  and  the  true  evidences  of  God's  grace  given  in 
the  Scriptures.  He  had  a  profound  sense  of  sin  and 
of  the  estrangement  of  the  heart  from  God,  and  he 
intensified  this  feeling  of  sin,  and  added  unnecessary 
weight  to  its  natural  burden  of  remorse,  by  reckon- 
ing as  mortal  sins  the  various  idle  thoughts  and 
strange  fancies  that  flitted  through  his  mind.  For 
instance,  Satan  suggested  to  him,  he  says, — 

"after  the  Lord  had  set  me  down  so  sweetly  in  the  faith  of  his 
holy  gospel,  and  had  given  me  such  strong  consolation  and  blessed 
evidence  from  heaven  touching  my  interest  in  his  love  through 
Christ,  .  .  .  'to  sell  and  part  with  this  most  blessed 
Christ.'     .     .     . 

"This  temptation  did  put  me  in  such  scares,  lest  I  should  at 
some  time  consent  thereto  and  be  overcome  therewith,-  that  by 
the  very  force  of  my  mind,  in  laboring  to  gainsay  and  resist  this 
wickedness,  my  very  body  would  be  put  into  action  or  motion, 
by  way  of  pushing  or  thrusting  with  my  hands  or  elbows ;  still  an- 
swering, as  fast  as  the  destroyer  said,  '  Sell  him,'  '  I  will  not,  I  will 
not,  I  wUl  not;  no,  not  for  thousands,  thousands,  thousands  of 
worlds';  thus  reckoning  lest  I  should,  in  the  midst  of  these  as- 
saults, set  too  low  a  value  on  him;  even  until  I  scarce  well  knew 
where  I  was,  or  how  to  be  composed  again.     .     .     . 

"To  be  brief:  one  morning  as  I  did  lie  in  my  bed,  I  was,  as  at 
other  times,  most  fiercely  assaulted  with  this  temptation,  to  sell 
and  part  with  Christ;  the  wicked  suggestion  still  running  in  my 
mind,  'Sell  him,  sell  him,  sell  him,  sell  him,'  as  fast  as  a  man 
could  speak;  against  which  also  in  my  mind,  as  at  other  times,  I 
answered,  'No,  no,  not  for  thousands,  thousands,  thousands,'  at 
least  twenty  times  together;    but  at  last,  after  much  striving, 

204 


JOHN  BUNYAN 

even  until  I  was  almost  out  of  breath,  I  felt  this  thought  pass 
through  my  heart,  'Let  him  go,  if  he  will';  and  I  thought  also 
that  I  felt  my  heart  freely  consent  thereto.  Oh!  the  diligence 
of  Satan !     .     .     . 

".  .  .  Down  fell  I,  as  a  bird  that  is  shot  from  the  top  of  a 
tree,  into  great  guilt  and  fearful  despair!" 

The  "guilt"  was  a  delusion,  but  his  "despair" 
was  real.  This  passage  and  others  like  it  suggest 
that  his  mind  at  times  was  near  to  insanity.  His 
persistent  fear  that  he  had  committed  the  unpardon- 
able sin,  and  his  imaginary  struggles  with  Satan 
attempting  to  mislead  his  soul  and  oppose  his 
spiritual  good  when  he  tried  to  pray  were  like  the 
hallucinations  of  a  crazy  man.  But  he  was  pre- 
served from  total  madness  by  the  soothing  influence 
of  God's  Word.  Its  pervading  tone  of  love  and  its 
divine  wisdom  proved  an  effective  antidote.  Though 
he  reeled  and  tottered  on  the  brink,  he  did  not  fall 
over.  The  outstretched  hand  of  Christ  that  rescued 
Peter  when  sinking  beneath  the  waves  was  stretched 
out  to  him  also  and  upheld  him.  His  dialogues 
with  Satan  amuse  us,  but  him  they  terrified. 

"The  tempter  [he  says]  hath  come  upon  me  with  such  dis- 
couragements as  these:  'You  are  very  hot  for  mercy,  but  I  will 
cool  you;  this  frame  shall  not  last  always;  many  have  been  as 
hot  as  you  for  a  spirit  [of  prayer],  but  I  have  quenched  their  zeal' 
.  .  .  but  thought  I,  I  am  glad  this  has  come  into  my  mind; 
well,  I  will  watch,  and  take  what  care  I  can.  'Though  you  do 
[said  Satan],  I  shall  be  too  hard  for  you;  I  Vvill  cool  you  insensi- 
bly, by  degrees,  by  Httle  and  little.  What  care  I,  though  I  be 
seven  years  in  chilling  your  heart,  if  I  can  do  it  at  last?  Con- 
tinual rocking  will  lull  a  crying  child  asleep;  I  will  ply  it  close, 
but  I  will  have  my  end  accomplished.     Though  you  be  burning 

205 


NINE  GREAT  PREACHERS 

hot  at  present,  I  can  pull  you  from  this  fire;   I  shall  have  you 
cold  before  it  be  long. 

These  fancied  dialogues  and  struggles  with  Satan 
were  similar  to  those  of  Martin  Luther  in  like  cir- 
cumstances. They  were  consonant  also  with  the 
theological  ideas  of  those  times  and  the  doctrine  of 
the  Reformers  in  the  century  preceding.  "His 
[Bunyan's]  doctrine,"  says  Froude,  "was  the  doctrine 
of  the  best  and  strongest  minds  in  Europe.  It  had 
been  believed  by  Luther,  it  had  been  believed  by 
Knox.  It  was  believed  at  that  moment  by  Oliver 
Cromwell  as  by  Bunyan."  Bunyan  may  be  said 
to  have  sat  at  the  feet  of  Luther,  as  he  himself  in 
effect  confessed.  Like  John  Wesley,  a  century  after 
him,  he  fell  in  with  Luther's  "Commentary  on 
Galatians,"  and  received  from  it  similar  spiritual 
enlightenment  and  relief. 

"When  I  had  but  a  little  way  perused  it  [he  says]  I  found  my 
condition  in  his  experience  so  largely  and  profoundly  handled,  as 
if  his  book  had  been  written  out  of  my  heart.  He  doth  most 
gravely  also  in  that  book  debate  of  the  rise  of  these  temptations, 
namely,  blasphemy,  desperation,  and  the  like,  showing  that  the 
law  of  Moses,  as  well  as  the  devil,  .  .  .  hath  a  very  great 
hand  therein;  the  which,  at  first,  was  very  strange  to  me,  but 
considering  and  watching  I  found  it  so  indeed.  But  of  particu- 
lars here  I  intend  nothing,  only  this  methinks  I  must  let  fall  be- 
fore all  men;  I  do  prefer  this  book  of  Martin  Luther  upon  Gala- 
tians (excepting  the  holy  Bible)  before  all  the  books  that  ever  I 
have  seen  as  most  fit  for  a  wounded  conscience." 

But  thanks  to  the  advice  of  his  pastor,  Mr.  Gifford 
(already  quoted),  his  chief  reliance  was  upon  the 
teaching  of  the  Bible. 

206 


JOHN  BUNYAN 

"It  would  be  too  long  here  to  stay  [he  says]  to  tell  in  particular 
how  God  did  set  me  down  in  all  the  things  of  Christ,  and  how  he 
did,  that  he  might  do  so,  lead  me  into  his  words;  yea,  and  also 
how  he  did  open  them  unto  me,  and  make  them  shine  before  me, 
and  cause  them  to  dicell  with  me,  talk  with  me,  and  comfort  me,  over 
and  over,  both  of  his  own  being  and  the  being  of  his  Son,  and 
Spirit,  and  Word,  and  Gospel." 

The  method,  so  to  speak,  of  his  use  of  Scripture 
is  thus  set  forth  by  him: — 

"I  would  in  these  days,  often  in  my  greatest  agonies,  even 
flounce  toicard  the  promise,  as  the  horses  do  towards  sound  ground 
that  yet  stick  in  the  mire,  concluding,  though  as  one  almost  bereft 
of  his  wits  through  fear,  'On  this  will  I  rest  and  stay,  and  leave 
the  fulfilling  of  it  to  the  God  of  heaven  that  made  it.'     .     .     . 

"Often  when  I  have  been  making  to  the  promise,  I  have  seen 
as  if  the  Lord  would  refuse  my  soul  for  ever:  I  was  often  as  if  I 
had  run  upon  the  pikes,  and  as  if  the  Lord  had  thrust  at  me,  to 
keep  me  from  him  as  with  a  flaming  sword.  Then  would  I  think 
of  Esther,  who  went  to  petition  the  king  contrary  to  the  law. 
.  .  .  The  woman  of  Canaan  also,  that  would  not  be  daunted 
though  called  dog  by  Christ,  and  the  man  that  went  to  borrow 
bread  at  midnight,  were  also  great  encouragements  to  me. 

"I  never  saw  those  heights  and  depths  in  grace,  and  love,  and 
mercy,  as  I  saw  after  this.  Great  sins  do  draw  out  great  grace, 
and  where  guilt  is  most  terrible  and  fierce,  there  the  mercy  of 
God  in  Christ,  when  showed  to  the  soul,  appears  most  high,  and 
mighty." 

What  the  old  theologians  called  the  "law  work" 
in  religious  experience,  and  which  they  deemed  a 
necessary  and  essential  precedent  to  the  ''work  of 
grace"  in  the  heart  (without  which  indeed  there 
could  be  no  relief  for  it  from  its  burden  of  sin),  had 
the  most  thorough  and  complete  operation  upon 
Bunyan's  soul.     Bunyan  believed  that  by  reason  of 

207 


NINE   GREAT  PREACHERS 

this  experience  he  was  given  not  only  a  wholesome 
fear  of  sin  that  kept  him  from  backsliding,  but  a 
power  and  skill  in  dealing  with  troubled  souls  which 
greatly  enhanced  his  usefulness  as  a  preacher  and 
pastor.  "It  was  for  this  reason,"  he  says,  "I  lay 
so  long  at  Sinai,  to  see  the  fire,  and  the  cloud,  and 
the  darkness,  that  I  might  fear  the  Lord  all  the  days 
of  my  life  upon  earth,  and  tell  of  all  his  wondrous 
works  to  my  children"  (in  the  faith). 

He  was  ordained  to  the  ministry  when  he  was 
twenty  seven  years  old.  Gradually  and  with  much 
diffidence  he  entered  upon  the  work,  encouraged 
thereto  by 

"the  most  able  for  judgment  and  holiness  of  life  [who]  did  per- 
ceive that  God  had  counted  me  worthy  to  understand  something 
of  his  will  in  his  holy  and  blessed  word,  and  had  given  me  utter- 
ance in  some  measure  to  express  what  I  saw  to  others  for  edifi- 
cation." "Wherefore,  though  of  myself  of  all  the  Saints  the 
most  unworthy,  yet  I,  but  with  great  fear  and  trembling  at  the 
sight  of  my  own  weakness,  did  set  upon  the  work";  — "which 
when  the  country  understood,  they  came  in  to  hear  the  word  by 
hundreds,  and  that  from  all  parts." 

His  development  as  a  preacher  was  rapid  and  most 
extraordinary.  Of  his  great  eloquence  and  ability 
in  preaching  we  have  the  fullest  proof.  "No  such 
preacher  to  the  uneducated  English  masses^,"  says 
Froude,  the  historian,  "was  to  be  found  within  the 
four  seas."  "With  the  thing  which  these  people 
meant  by  inspiration  he  was  abundantly  supplied." 
His  fame  as  a  preacher  was  not  confined  to  the 
limits  of  Bedfordshire,  where  most  of  his  ministry 
was  spent:    it  extended  to  London,  and  in  London, 

208 


JOHN  BUNYAN 

where  he  occasionally  preached,  the  attraction  of 
his  eloquence  drew  great  crowds  to  hear  him.  Mr. 
Doe,  a  warm  contemporary  admirer  and  citizen  of 
the  metropolis,  says:  "When  Mr.  Bunyan  preached 
in  London,  if  there  w^ere  but  one  day's  notice  given 
there  would  be  more  people  come  together  to  hear 
him  preach  than  the  meetinghouse  could  hold.  I 
have  seen  to  hear  him  preach  by  my  computation 
about  1200  at  a  morning  sermon  by  7  o'clock  on  a 
working  day  in  the  dark  winter  time.  I  also  com- 
puted about  3000  that  came  to  hear  him  one  Lord's 
day  in  London  at  a  town's  end  meetinghouse,  so 
that  half  were  fain  to  go  away  again  for  want  of 
room,  and  then  himself  was  fain  at  a  back  door  to  be 
pulled  almost  over  people  to  get  up  stairs  to  his 
pulpit." 

And  not  only  "to  the  uneducated  English  masses" 
was  he  an  acceptable  preacher,  but  to  the  noble,  the 
learned,  the  rich,  and  those  of  high  social  station. 
The  learned  Dr.  John  Owen  was  one  of  his  frequent 
hearers,  embracing  eagerly  every  opportunity  to 
hear  him  and  inviting  him  to  preach  to  his  own  select 
congregation  in  Moorefields;  saying  to  King  Charles 
11. ,  who  asked  him,  "how  he  could  go  to  hear  that 
tinker  preach?"  that  he  "would  willingly  exchange 
his  learning  for  the  ability  to  preach  as  well  as  the 
tinker." 

It  is  interesting  to  know  what  were  the  particular 
personal  qualities  of  Bunyan  which  gave  him  this 
eminence  as  a  preacher,  since,  were  it  not  for  the 
fact  that  his  fame  as  an  allegorical  writer  eclipsed 
his  fame  as  a  preacher,  he  might  fairly  be  regarded 

14  209 


NINE   GREAT  PREACHERS 

as  one  of  the  most  eminent  lights  of  the  pulpit  in 
his  time.  This  judgment  is  warranted  not  only  by 
his  contemporary  reputation,  but  by  his  published 
sermons  that  have  come  down  to  us. 

Among  the  personal  qualities  that  distinguished 
him  as  a  preacher  were  the  following: — 

1.  He  had  a  deep,  unwavering  conviction  of  the 
truth  and  importance  of  his  message.  The  "accent  of 
conviction"  was  never  lacking  in  it.  He  had  thor- 
oughly tested  that  truth  by  his  own  experience. 
"I  preached  what  I  saw  and  felt,"  he  says.  He 
could  sincerely  say,  therefore,  with  the  first  preachers 
of  the  gospel,  we  "speak  the  things  which  we  have 
seen  and  heard."  He  was  an  actual  witness  to  their 
verity,  not  merely  a  repeater  of  things  reported  by 
others.  He  believed  with  all  his  heart  that  men 
needed  an  almighty  saviour  from  sin  and  that  in 
Christ  Jesus  only  they  could  find  him.  As  a  result 
of  this  conviction  he  manifested  an  enthusiasm  and 
earnestness  in  his  preaching  which  seemed  like  a 
heavenly  inspiration. 

"I  have  been  in  my  preaching  [he  says],  especially  when  I  have 
been  engaged  in  the  doctrine  of  life  by  Christ  without  works,  as 
if  an  angel  of  God  had  stood  at  my  back  to  encourage  me.  Oh, 
it  hath  been  with  such  power  and  heavenly  evidence  upon  my 
soul,  while  I  have  been  laboring  to  unfold  it,  to  demonstrate  it, 
and  to  fasten  it  upon  the  consciences  of  others,  that  I  could  not 
be  contented  with  saying,  I  believe  and  am  sure;  methought  I 
was  more  than  sure,  if  it  be  lawful  so  to  express  myself,  that 
those  things  which  I  then  asserted  were  true." 

2.  He  was  direct  and  unflinching  in  his  preaching 
of  what  he  believed  to  be  the  truth.     "I  did  labor  so  to 

210 


JOHN  BUNYAN 

speak  the  word,"  he  says,  "as  that  thereby,  if  it 
were  possible,  the  sin  and  the  person  guilty  might 
be  particularized  by  it."  Though  by  his  plain 
preaching  he  condemned  himself,  he  was  not  to  be 
deterred  by  that  fact. 

"When,  as  sometimes,  I  have  been  about  to  preach  upon  some 
smart  and  searching  portion  of  the  word,  I  have  found  the 
tempter  suggest,  'This  condemns  yourself;  of  this  your  own  soul 
is  guilty.  Wherefore  preach  not  of  it  at  all;  or  if  you  do,  yet  so 
mince  it  as  to  make  way  for  your  own  escape,  lest  instead  of 
awakening  others,  you  lay  that  guilt  upon  your  own  soul  as  you 
will  never  get  from  under.' 

"But  I  thank  the  Lord  [he  says]  I  have  been  kept  from 
consenting  to  these  horrid  suggestions,  and  have  rather,  as 
Samson,  bowed  myself  with  all  my  might,  to  condemn  sin  and 
transgression  wherever  I  found  it,  though  therein  I  did  bring 
guilt  upon  my  own  conscience.  Let  me  die,  thought  I,  with 
the  Philistines,  rather  than  deal  corruptly  with  the  blessed  word 
of  God." 

3.  He  combined  with  the  earnestness  and  direct- 
ness of  address  that  we  have  spoken  of  a  marvelously 
clear,  picturesque,  and  simple  style.  Bunyan's  style 
is  the  wonder  of  all  students  of  rhetoric,  and  writers 
upon  the  subject.  Macaulay  says  of  it:  "The 
vocabulary  is  the  vocabulary  of  the  common  people. 
Yet  no  WTiter  (or  speaker  as  well)  has  said  more 
exactly  what  he  meant  to  say.  For  magnificence, 
for  pathos,  for  vehement  exhortation,  for  every 
purpose  of  the  poet,  the  orator  and  the  divine,  this 
homely  dialect — the  dialect  of  plain  working  men,  is 
sufficient."  A.  C.  Benson  compares  his  style  to 
that  of  Cardinal  Newman  and  says:  *Tt  was  not  so 
much  the  expression  of  a  thought  as  the  thought 

211 


NINE   GREAT  PREACHERS 

itself  taking  shape  in  a  perfectly  pure  medium  of 
language." 

Besides  its  simplicity  and  lucid  plainness,  the 
style  of  Bunyan  had  a  persuasive  warmth  that 
touched  men's  hearts.  "Let  him  write  on  what 
subject  he  may,"  says  Dr.  John  Brown,  his  biog- 
rapher, "he  writes  not  long  before  he  melts  with 
tenderness,  or  glows  with  fire."  His  published 
sermons,  "The  Jerusalem  Sinner  Saved,"  "The 
Barren  Fig  Tree,"  "Come  and  Welcome  to  Jesus," 
and  "The  Greatness  of  the  Soul,"  though  enlarged 
considerably  beyond  the  limits  within  which  they 
were  confined  when  preached,  preserve  the  talking, 
animated  style  with  which  they  were  orally  delivered, 
and  are  indeed  full  of  tenderness  and  fire.  The  act 
of  committing  them  to  writing  did  not  essentially 
change  their  mode  of  expression,  but  embalmed  it. 

Take  the  following  example  from  a  discussion  on 
"Christ  our  Advocate": — 

"This  consideration  will  help  thee  to  put  by  that  visor  {i.  e. 
mask)  wherewith  Christ  by  Satan  is  misrepresented  to  thee  to 
the  affrighting  thee.  There  is  nothing  more  common  among 
Saints  than  thus  to  be  wronged  by  Satan :  for  he  will  labor  so  to 
present  Him  to  us  with  so  dreadful  and  direful  a  countenance 
that  a  man  in  temptation  and  under  guilt  shall  hardly  be  able  to 
lift  up  his  face  to  God.  But  to  think  really  that  He  is  my  advo- 
cate, this  heals  all.  Put  a  visor  on  the  face  of  a  father  and  it  may 
perhaps  for  a  while  fright  the  child,  but  let  the  father  speak,  let 
him  speak  in  his  own  fatherly  dialect  to  the  child,  and  the  visor 
is  gone,  if  not  from  the  father's  face,  yet  from  the  child's  mind: 
yea,  the  child,  notwithstanding  that  visor,  will  adventure  to  creep 
into  the  father's  bosom.  Thus  it  is  with  the  Saints  when  Satan 
deludes  and  abuses  them  by  disfiguring  the  countenance  of  Christ 
to  their  view;   let  them  but  hear  their  Lord  speak  in  his  own 

212 


JOHN  BUNYAN 

natural  dialect — and  he  doth  so  when  we  hear  him  speak  as  an 
advocate — and  their  minds  are  calmed — their  thoughts  settled, 
their  guilt  vanished,  and  their  faith  revived." 

4.  The  passage  just  quoted  suggests  that  a  rare 
gift  of  imagination  was  another  qualification  that 
gave  Bunyan  his  eminence  as  a  preacher.  "Similes 
were  ever  coming  to  his  mind  like  ripples  over  a 
stream,"  says  Dr.  Brown.  These  were  of  every 
kind  and  variety,  so  that  all  classes  of  hearers  found 
pleasure  in  them.  There  were  homely  figures  for 
the  common  people  and  exquisite  ones  for  those  of 
more  refined  taste. 

The  following  are  examples  of  both  kinds: — 

"Sins  go  not  alone,  but  follow  one  another  as  do  the  links  of  a 
chain." 

"The  sinner,  when  his  conscience  is  fallen  asleep  and  grown 
hard,  will  he  like  the  smith's  dog  at  the  foot  of  the  anvil,  though 
the  fire  sparks  fly  in  his  face." 

"Strike  a  steel  against  a  flint  and  the  fire  flies  about  you;  strike 
the  law  against  a  carnal  heart,  and  sin  appears,  sin  multiplies, 
sin  rageth,  sin  is  strengthened." 

"Truths  are  often  delivered  to  us  like  wheat  in  full  ears,  to 
the  end  we  should  rub  them  out  before  we  eat  them,  and  take 
pains  about  them  before  we  have  the  comfort  of  them." 

"Prayer  is  as  the  pitcher  that  fetcheth  the  water  from  the 
brook,  therewith  to  water  the  herbs:  break  the  pitcher  and  it 
will  fetch  no  water,  and  for  want  of  water  the  garden  withers." 

"He  that  comes  to  Christ  cannot  always  get  on  as  fast  as  he 
would.  Poor  coming  soul,  thou  art  like  the  man  that  would 
ride  full  gallop,  whose  horse  will  hardly  trot.  Now  the  desire 
of  his  mind  is  not  to  be  judged  by  the  slow  pace  of  the  dull  jade 
he  rides  on,  but  by  the  hitching,  and  kicking,  and  spurring  as  he 
sits  on  his  back.  Thefleshislike  this  dull  jade;  it  will  not  gallop 
after  Christ,  it  will  be  backward,  though  thy  soul  and  heaven  be 
at  stake." 

213 


NINE  GREAT  PREACHERS 

By  the  two  following  beautiful  illustrations  he 
shows  the  advantages  and  mutual  benefits  resulting 
from  the  united  labors  and  fellowship  of  Christians 
in  a  well-ordered  church: — 

"When  Christians  stand  every  one  in  their  places  and  do  the 
work  of  their  relations,  then  they  are  like  the  flowers  in  the  gar- 
den that  stand  and  grow  where  the  gardener  hath  planted  them, 
and  then  they  shall  both  honor  the  garden  in  which  they  are 
planted,  and  the  gardener  that  hath  so  disposed  them.  From 
the  hyssop  on  the  wall  to  the  cedar  in  Lebanon,  their  fruit  is 
their  glory." 

"Christians  are  like  the  several  flowers  in  a  garden,  that  have 
upon  each  of  them  the  dew  of  heaven,  which  being  shaken  by 
the  wind  they  let  fall  their  dew  at  each  other's  roots,  whereby 
they  are  jointly  nourished  and  become  nourishers  of  each  other." 

The  imperfection  of  our  purest  and  holiest  desires, 
arising  from  the  imperfection  of  human  nature,  never 
was  more  aptly  expressed  than  in  the  following : — 

"This  is  the  cause  of  the  coolness,  of  the  weakness,  of  the  flat- 
ness, and  of  the  many  extravagances  that  attend  some  of  our 
desires ;  they  come  warm  from  the  Spirit  and  grace  of  God  in  us, 
but  as  hot  water  running  through  cold  pipes,  or  as  clear  water 
running  through  dirty  conveyances,  so  our  desires  gather  soil." 

5.  Another  quality  in  him  which  made  Bunyan 
eminent  as  a  preacher  was  the  remarkable  productive- 
ness of  his  mind  in  regard  to  religious  subjects.  His 
mind  in  itself  was  a  mine  of  wealth  while  he  worked 
on  that  particular  vein.  And  its  opulence  was  not 
due  to  any  enrichment  it  had  received  from  wide 
reading.  Henry  Ward  Beecher,  whose  productive- 
ness excited  the  wonder  and  admiring  comment  of 
Abraham  Lincoln  ("the  most  productive  mind  of 
ancient  or  modern  times,"  he  said),  was  a  diligent 

214 


JOHN  BUNYAN 

reader  of  all  kinds  of  books,  fertilizing  his  mind  with 
their  various  elements  of  quickening  power;  but  Bun- 
van's  reading  was  chiefly  confined  to  one  book — 
the  Bible.  His  thoughts  were  his  own,  or  such  as 
were  suggested  to  his  mind  by  his  own  experience, 
the  outward  world  of  nature,  which  he  attentively 
observed,  and  the  Bible.  "I  have  not  fished,"  he 
says,  "in  other  men's  waters:  my  Bible  and  Con- 
cordance are  my  only  library."  But  few  men  ever 
studied  the  Bible  as  he  did.  As  in  his  early  religious 
experience,  soon  after  meeting  "those  poor  Bedford 
people,"  he  said:  "I  never  was  out  of  the  Bible, 
either  by  reading  or  meditation,"  so  always.  He 
saturated  his  mind  and  heart  with  it.  It  was  his 
constant  support  in  weakness,  his  daily  food,  the 
never-failing  tonic  of  his  spiritual  life.  Through 
all  his  changing  moods,  it  w^as  fitted  to  his  various 
needs.  Placing  such  dependence  upon  it,  he  ex- 
tracted from  it  all  its  enriching,  stimulating  power. 
When  dragged  to  prison  for  preaching  the  gospel, 
this  affliction  was  mitigated  by  the  fact  that  his 
insight  into  the  Scriptures  was  enhanced  thereby. 
"I  never  had  in  all  my  life,"  he  says,  "so  great  an 
inlet  into  the  word  of  God  as  now.  I  could  pray  for 
greater  trouble,  for  the  greater  comfort's  sake." 

We  can  easily  believe  that  the  Bible  thus  con- 
stantly studied  and  fed  upon  and  made  an  elixir  of 
life  to  his  soul  stimulated  to  extraordinary  produc- 
tiveness Bunyan's  mind.  It  yields  to  such  a  student 
of  its  pages  an  equivalent  to  the  best  books  in  the 
world's  literature.  Buny^n  found  it  so.  It  wonder- 
fully quickened,  strengthened,  and  purified  all  his 

215 


NINE   GREAT  PREACHERS 

mental  faculties:  it  gave  them  for  their  use  an 
inexhaustible  treasure  of  thought  and  suggestion, 
and  it  gave  him  also  his  power  of  expression,  the 
remarkable  style  of  which  we  have  spoken,  in  which 
the  language  of  prophets,  psalmists,  evangelists, 
and  apostles,  as  given  in  the  Authorized  Version  of 
the  Scriptures,  is  heard  in  its  great  range  of  thought 
and  feeling. 

6.  One  other  thing  which  contributed  greatly  to 
Bunyan's  success  and  eminence  as  a  preacher  was 
his  homiletic  skill.  His  sermons  are  worthy  of  any 
preacher's  study  for  their  valuable  hints  in  this 
respect.  The  art  of  preaching  finds  in  him  some  of 
its  most  important  principles  admirably  exemplified. 
While  we  do  not  by  any  means  regard  him  as  a  model 
preacher  in  all  respects,  and  readily  admit  that  he 
had  great  faults,  as  those  of  prolixity,  frequent 
digression,  excessive  division,  rambling,  and  others, 
we  still  maintain  that  he  had  great  excellencies, 
which  went  far  towards  redeeming  those  faults,  and 
which  make  him,  because  of  them,  always  worth  a 
preacher's  time  to  observe  and  in  some  measure  to 
imitate.  We  mention  these  four:  (1)  a  picturesque 
and  lively  manner  of  addressing  his  hearers  or  readers 
by  reason  of  which  he  is  never  dull,  however  prolix 
or  rambling;  (2)  such  a  full  and  complete  explanation 
of  the  text  and  different  points  touched  upon,  that 
there  is  no  possibility  of  anyone  mistaking,  or  of 
not  getting  a  clear  understanding  of  his  meaning; 
(3)  a  remarkable  and  very  successful  use  of  the  dia- 
logue for  the  sake  of  answering  objections  or  sup- 
porting and  clinching  a  point  by  a  short,  telling  argu- 

216 


JOHN  BUNYAN 

ment;  and  (4)  an  earnestness  to  convince  and  win 
those  addressed,  which  leaves  no  available  means  of 
persuasion  untried,  and  which  rises  continually  into 
expressions  of  tender  appeal  and  passages  of  natural, 
unaffected  eloquence. 

Of  these  four  excellencies,  the  third  {the  use  of  the 
dialogue)  is  perhaps  the  most  unique  and  notable. 
As  used  by  Bunyan  it  is  very  effective.  No  modern 
preacher  that  we  can  recall  surpasses  him  in  this 
respect.  The  only  one  that  we  can  think  of  who 
approaches,  and  perhaps  equals,  him  in  the  skilful 
use  of  this  rhetorical  weapon  is  the  late  Professor 
Edwards  A.  Park  of  Andover.*  It  is  a  dangerous 
weapon  to  use.  One  may  easily  wound  himself 
rather  than  overcome  his  imaginary  antagonist  with 
it.  But  having  the  ability  and  skill  to  use  it,  as  it 
was  used  by  Bunyan  and  Professor  Park,  one  may 
achieve  wonders  with  it. 

The  story  of  Bunyan's  imprisonment  for  the  mere 
offense  of  preaching  the  gospel  to  a  small  company 
of  religious  people,  dissenters  from  the  established 
church,  is  too  familiar  to  be  dwelt  on  long  by  us. 
For  the  period  of  twelve  years  and  upwards,  his 
incarceration  was  prolonged,  most  of  it,  excepting 
occasional  absences,  spent  in  the  larger  jail  of  the 
county  located  in  Bedford;  to  which  was  added, 
later,  another  short  term  in  the  small  municipal 
jail  placed  midway  on  the  bridge  that  spanned  the 
river  Ouse  dividing  the  town.  At  the  present  time 
^  not  a  relic  remains  of  either  one  of  those  prisons. 

♦See,  for  example,  the  sermon  "The  Prominence  of  the  Atonement,"  in  his 
Discourses  (Andover:  Warren  F.  Draper). 

217 


NINE   GREAT  PREACHERS 

In  the  smaller  jail  tradition  reports  that  the  first 
part  of  "The  Pilgrim's  Progress"  was  written.  To 
those  two  jails  in  Bedford  was  given  the  great  honor 
of  being  each  the  place  where  a  great  book  originated. 
In  the  jail  on  the  bridge,  Bunyan  conceived  and 
composed  the  first  part  of  his  immortal  allegory: 
in  the  county  jail,  in  the  next  century,  John  Howard, 
then  the  sheriff  of  Bedfordshire,  whose  official  duty 
it  was  to  inspect  the  prison  of  his  county,  and  whose 
heart  was  profoundly  stirred  by  what  he  found  there 
of  abuses  and  a  wTetched  condition  from  which 
Bunyan  had  suffered,  was  started  on  his  philan- 
thropic career  as  a  prison  reformer,  and  incited  to 
write  his  famous  book  on  "The  State  of  Prisons  in 
England." 

Bunyan  took  to  his  prison  for  his  solace  two  books 
—the  Bible  and  Fox's  "Book  of  Martyrs."  He 
needed  all  the  support  they  could  give  him. 

The  following  extracts  from  "Grace  Abounding" 
describe  his  mental  and  spiritual  distress  over  his 
situation : — 

"Notwithstanding  these  helps,  I  found  myself  a  man  encom- 
passed with  infirmities.  The  parting  with  my  wife  and  poor 
children  hath  often  been  to  me,  in  this  place,  as  the  pulling  of 
the  flesh  from  the  bones  .  .  .  because  I  would  have  often 
brought  to  my  mind  the  many  hardships,  miseries,  and  want 
that  my  poor  family  was  like  to  meet  with,  should  1  be  taken 
from  them;  especially  my  poor  blind  child  [his  daughter  Mary], 
who  lay  nearer  my  heart  than  all  I  had  beside.  Oh,  the  thoughts 
of  the  hardship  my  blind  one  might  undergo  would  break  my 
heart  in  pieces!  ...  In  this  condition  I  was  as  a  man  who 
was  pulling  down  his  house  upon  the  heads  of  his  wife  and  chil- 
dren; yet,  thought  I,  I  must  do  it,  I  must  do  it." 

218 


JOHN  BUNYAN 

"Being  but  a  young  prisoner,  and  not  acquainted  with  the 
laws,  I  had  this  laid  much  upon  my  spirit,  that  my  imprison- 
ment might  end  at  the  gallows  for  aught  that  I  could  tell.  .  .  . 
Therefore  Satan  laid  hard  at  me  to  beat  me  out  of  heart  by  sug- 
gesting thus  unto  me:  'But  how,  if,  when  you  come  indeed  to 
die,  you  should  be  in  this  condition;  that  is,  not  to  savour  the 
things  of  God,  nor  to  have  any  evidence  upon  your  soul  for  a 
better  state  hereafter?'  ...  I  thought,  if  I  should  make  a 
scrambling  shift  to  clamber  up  the  ladder,  yet  I  should  either 
with  quaking  or  other  symptoms  of  fainting  give  occasion  to  the 
enemy  to  reproach  the  way  of  God  and  his  people  for  their  timor- 
ousness.  This  lay  with  great  trouble  upon  me,  for  methought 
I  was  ashamed  to  die  with  a  pale  face  and  tottering  knees  for 
such  a  cause  as  this.  .  .  .  Thus  I  was  tossed  for  many  weeks, 
and  knew  not  what  to  do.  At  last  this  consideration  fell  with 
weight  upon  me,  that  it  was  for  the  Word  and  way  of  God  that 
I  was  in  this  condition,  wherefore  I  was  engaged  not  to  flinch  a 
hair's  breadth  from  it.  Wherefore,  thought  I,  I  am  for  going  on 
and  venturing  my  eternal  state  with  Christ,  whether  I  have  com- 
fort here  or  not.  If  God  doth  not  come  in,  I  will  leap  off  the  ladder 
even  blindfold  into  eternity.  Lord  Jesus,  if  thou  wilt  catch  me, 
do;  if  not,  I  will  venture  for  thy  name!"  "Now  was  my  heart 
full  of  comfort.  I  would  not  have  been  without  this  trial  for 
much;  .  .  .  and  I  hope  I  shall  bless  God  forever  for  the 
teaching  I  have  had  by  it." 

Bunyan's  long  imprisonment,  and  that  of  the 
Quakers,  George  Fox  and  Whitehead,  and  others  in 
that  age  of  intolerance,  with  the  physical  sufferings 
and  mental  anguish  that  accompanied  it,  was  a 
part  of  the  great  price  paid  for  the  liberty  to  worship 
God  according  to  the  dictates  of  the  individual  con- 
science, which  is  our  precious  inheritance.  Incal- 
culable is  the  debt  of  gratitude  we  owe  them  on 
account  of  it. 

Froude  defends  the  English  government  and  the 

219 


NINE   GREAT  PREACHERS 

magistrates  of  that  time  from  the  charge  of  cruelty, 
as  if  he  had  received  a  special  retainer  to  do  it.  He 
declares,  in  substance,  that  Bunyan  had  only  him- 
self to  blame;  that  his  preaching  was  in  violation 
of  law;  that  the  magistrates  repeatedly  told  him 
and  his  wife  that  if  he  would  promise  not  to  preach, 
he  should  go  free;  but  that  to  all  their  expostulations 
and  warnings  he  opposed  a  stubborn  and  lawless 
attitude.  "If  you  let  me  out  today,"  he  said,  "I 
will  preach  again  tomorrow";  and  his  wife,  "He 
dare  not  leave  preaching  as  long  as  he  can  speak." 
At  this,  one  of  the  judges  exclaimed:  "Why  should 
we  talk  any  more  about  such  a  fellow.f^  Must  he 
do  what  he  lists?"  To  which  the  poor  woman 
might  truthfully  have  answered:  "Yes,  my  lord, 
God  bids  him  do  so.  Take  heed,  what  ye  intend  to 
do  as  touching  this  man,  lest  haply  ye  be  found  even 
to  fight  against  God."  This  is  the  conclusion  to 
which  the  world  has  now  come. 

The  labored  defense  of  Froude  is  no  vindication 
of  the  magistrates  or  government.  It  was  in  clear 
violation  of  the  promise  of  the  king  (Charles  II.) 
at  Breda,  before  his  return  to  England,  that  if 
restored  to  the  throne  of  his  father,  he  would  grant 
"liberty  and  consideration  for  tender  consciences"; 
and  that  "no  man  should  be  molested  for  differences 
in  opinion  in  matters  of  religion." 

While  in  prison  Bunyan  busied  himself  in  various 
ways:  in  the  making  of  tagged  laces,  by  which  he 
earned  something  for  the  maintenance  of  his  family; 
in  preaching  and  ministering  to  his  fellow-prisoners; 
and  in  writing  works  for  publication. 

220 


JOHN  BUNYAN 

One  who  heard  him  preach  in  prison  says:  "In 
the  midst  of  the  confusion  (of  the  prison)  I  have 
heard  Mr.  Bunyan  both  preach  and  pray  with 
that  mighty  spirit  of  faith  and  plerophory  [i.  e. 
assurance]  of  Divine  assistance  that  has  made  me 
stand  and  wonder." 

The  most  of  the  works  written  and  published 
during  his  imprisonment  were  ampHfications  of 
sermons  he  had  preached.  Among  these  were 
the  dehghtful  treatises  on  "Christian  Behavior" 
and  the  "Holy  City,"  which  bear  clear  marks 
of  the  genius  that  culminated  in  "The  Pilgrim's 
Progress." 

The  "Holy  City,"  the  New  Jerusalem,  as  he 
interpreted  it,  is  not  the  abode  of  the  Church  of  God 
in  the  life  to  come;  it  rather  symbolizes  the  Church 
itself,  that  great  community  of  redeemed  men  which 
shall  eventually  bring  heaven's  glory  and  happiness 
to  the  earth.  Enraptured  by  the  vision,  he  thus 
expresses  his  longing  for  the  time  of  its  fulfillment: 
"Never  was  fair  weather  after  foul,  nor  warm  weather 
after  cold,  nor  sweet  and  beautiful  spring  after  a 
heavy  and  nipping  and  terrible  winter,  so  comforta- 
ble, sweet,  desirable,  and  welcome  to  the  poor  birds 
and  beasts  of  the  field  as  this  day  will  be  to  the 
Church  of  God."  The  wonderful  suggestiveness 
and  fertility  of  his  mind  in  ideas  is  well  exhibited  in 
the  interpretation  he  gives  to  the  several  features 
of  the  Holy  City.  Its  twelve  gates,  three  to  each 
point  of  the  compass,  indicate  that  "God  hath  a 
people  in  every  quarter  of  the  world,  and  that  from 
what  quarter  of  the  world  soever  men  come  for  life, 

221 


NINE   GREAT  PREACHERS 

for  those  men  there  are  the  gates  of  life  right 
before  their  doors." 

Its  foundations  with  the  names  of  the  twelve 
apostles  on  them  indicate  "that  neither  Christ  nor 
any  of  his  benefits  can  be  profitable  unto  thee  unless 
thou  receive  him  alone  upon  the  terms  that  they  do 
offer  him  to  sinners  in  their  word  and  doctrine." 

Its  twelve  gates  of  twelve  pearls — "every  several 
gate  one  pearl" — indicate  "that  as  none  can  enter 
in  but  by  Christ,  so  none  can  enter  in  but  by  a 
whole  Christ:  .  .  .  thou  must  enter  in  by 
every  whit  of  Christ,  or  by  never  a  whit  of  him." 

Its  one  "street  of  pure  gold,  as  it  were  transparent 
glass,"  indicates  that  "at  last  the  saints  shall  walk 
in  one  way.  It  is  Anti-Christ  that  hath  brought 
in  all  these  crossings,  by-lanes,  and  odd  nooks  that 
to  this  day  many  an  honest  heart  doth  greatly  lose 
itself  in.  Men  must  have  pure  hearts  for  that 
golden  street, — golden  hearts  with  graces  that  are 
much  more  precious  than  gold." 

That  "the  city  was  pure  gold"  indicates  "how 
invincible  a  spirit  the  people  of  God  are  possessed 
of.  Gold  is  a  metal  so  invincible  that  no  fire  can 
consume  it."  Fire  may  melt  it,  and  consume  its 
dross,  but  instead  of  destroying  it  the  fire  refines  it. 
"The  church  in  the  fire  of  persecution  is  like  Esther 
in  the  perfuming  chamber,  but  making  fit  for  the 
presence  of  the  king." 

Holding  a  conspicuous  place  among  these  prison 
writings  was  "Grace  Abounding,"  written  for  the 
spiritual  good  of  those  to  whom  he  formerly  min- 
istered, "whom  God  hath  counted  him  worthy  to 

222 


JOHN  BUNYAN 

beget  to  faith  by  his  ministry."  "The  remembrance 
of  my  great  sins,  of  my  great  temptations,  and  of  my 
great  fears  of  perishing  forever  bring  afresh  to  my 
mind  the  remembrance  of  my  great  help  from  heaven. 
He  would  therefore  incite  them  to  '^search  also  for 
the  hid  treasure  of  their  first  and  second  experience 
of  the  grace  of  God." 

Of  the  style  in  which  he  wrote  it,  which  is  essen- 
tially the  style  of  all  his  works,  adopted  for  the 
reason  here  given,  he  says :  "I  could  have  stepped  into 
a  style  much  higher  than  this  in  which  I  have  dis- 
coursed, but  I  dare  not."  God  did  not  play  in 
dealing  with  him,  he  said,  neither  did  he  himself 
play  when  he  sank  as  into  a  bottomless  pit  and  the 
pangs  of  hell  caught  hold  of  him.  Therefore  he  may 
not  play  in  telling  the  story,  but  "be  plain  and  simple 
and  lay  down  the  thing  as  it  was.  He  that  likes 
it  may  receive  it,  he  that  does  not,  let  him 
produce  a  better." 

No  better  rule  for  the  formation  of  a  good  style 
could  be  given  than  that  thus  adopted  by  Bunyan 
and  contained  in  the  words  ''be  plain  and  simple, 
and  lay  down  the  thing  as  it  was.''  So  Lincoln  ac- 
quired his  wonderful  style.  It  was  the  result  of 
his  honest  endeavor  to  tell  the  exact  truth — to 
express  and  "lay  down  the  thing  as  it  was." 

This  rule  does  not  exclude  proper  use  of  the  imagi- 
nation. It  indeed  requires  this  sometimes.  Many 
times  it  is  not  possible  "to  lay  down  the  thing  as 
it  was"  without  the  aid  of  apt  illustration.  Subjects 
that  are  obscure  to  the  common  intelligence,  like 
those  of  religion  and  its  ideals,  and  the  abstruse 

223 


NINE   GREAT  PREACHERS 

themes  of  philosophy,  require  the  illumination  given 
by  the  imagination.  As  visitors  to  Mammoth  Cave 
would  get  no  adequate  conception  of  the  magnitude 
and  wondrous  beauty  of  its  jeweled  chambers, 
except  by  the  illuminating  light  of  their  torches,  so 
explorers  of  all  dark  subjects  would  have  no  clear 
ideas  in  regard  to  them,  no  perception  of  their  full 
meaning  and  real  charm,  but  for  the  imagination's 
help.  The  writings  of  Bunyan  are  good  examples 
of  this  truth.  The  attractive  charm  possessed  by 
them  is  largely  due  to  the  imaginative  light  thrown 
upon  them. 

The  most  famous  of  his  writings,  "The  Pilgrim's 
Progress,"  was  conceived  and  largely  composed  in 
the  last  year  of  his  imprisonment.  Like  all  his  works, 
its  thought,  lessons,  and  inspiration  were  derived 
from  the  Bible.  Comparing  it  with  Dante's  great 
work.  Dr.  John  Brown  truly  says:  "  'The  Pilgrim's 
Progress'  is  an  English  flower,  as  the  *Divina  Com- 
media'  is  a  Tuscan  flower,  grown  on  Jewish  soil." 
One  is  as  much  a  work  of  genius  as  the  other.  Their 
immortality,  their  unfading  popularity  with  all 
classes  of  people,  place  them  in  the  same  rank.  It 
is  interesting  to  know  how  it  originated  and  was 
composed. 

The  idea  of  it  came  to  him  while  engaged  with 
another  work.  It  came  to  him  as  an  inspiration, 
like  Mozart's  Requiem.  It  took  possession  of  his 
mind,  captivated,  and  engrossed  it  completely 
until  it  was  finished. 

He  wrote  it  to  please  himself,  without  any  thought, 
at  first,  of  its  publication  or  of  the  fame  it  was  to 

224 


JOHN  BUNYAN 

bring  him.  Indeed  he  tells  us  in  his  homely  "apol- 
ogy" for  it,  that  when  finished  he  hesitated  to  give 
it  to  the  world  and  in  his  doubt  consulted  his  friends 
about  it. 

"Some  said,  John,  print  it;  others  said.  Not  so. 
Some  said,  it  might  do  good;  others  said,  No. 
Now  I  was  in  a  strait,  and  did  not  see 
WTiich  was  the  best  thing  to  be  done  by  me; 
At  last  I  thought,  since  you  are  thus  divided, 
I  print  it  will;  and  so  the  case  decided." 

It  cost  him  no  painful  effort  to  produce  it.  It 
sprang  from  his  fertile  mind  like  a  spring  flower 
from  its  native  soil  w^hen  quickened  by  the  sunshine. 
In  the  doing  of  it  there  was  no  conscious  elaboration. 
His  thick-coming  thoughts  and  fancies  were,  he 
says,  "like  sparks  from  coals  of  fire,"  spontaneous, 
unforced,  and  eager  to  find  expression. 

"Thus  I  set  pen  to  paper  with  delight, 
And  quickly  had  my  thoughts  in  black  and  white." 

Concerning  its  characteristics  little  need  be  said, 
because  they  are  so  w^ell  known.  Few  there  are  of 
English  stock  but  have  read  and  appreciated  its 
i'p.aginative  picturesqueness,  its  graphic  descrip- 
tions, its  genial  humor,  and  childlike  naturalness. 
It  charmed  and  instructed  us  in  childhood  and  still 
retains  its  spell  over  us  in  our  adult  years  even  to  the 
end  of  life.  Dean  Stanley  has  truly  said  of  it:  "The 
pilgrimage  Bunyan  described  is  the  pilgrimage  of 
every  one  of  us,  and  the  combination  of  neighbors, 
friends  and  enemies  whom  he  saw  in  his  dream 
are  the  same  as  we  see  in  our  actual  lives." 

No    other    book    depicts    so   vividly   our   varied 

15  225 


NINE   GREAT  PREACHERS 

religious  experiences,  our  spiritual  needs,  our  fears, 
and  our  hopes,  and  the  exaltation  of  mind  granted 
to  us  in  our  better  moments.  In  short,  it  has  the 
elements  of  universality  and  stability  characteristic 
of  the  highest  works  of  genius,  which  make  it  agree- 
able to  all  classes  and  creeds,  "a  religious  bond  to 
the  whole  of  English  Christendom,"  and  acceptable 
to  the  people  of  all  time.  Though  the  peculiar 
theology  of  Bunyan's  day  has  become  obsolete  in 
most  churches,  and  been  supplanted  by  another 
whose  doctrinal  statements  differ  widely  from  it, 
strange  to  say,  this  change  has  hardly  touched  the 
truth  and  power  of  "The  Pilgrim's  Progress."  It 
is  vital  still  with  the  essential  truth  of  Christianity. 
This  has  remained  and  will  remain  as  invulnerable 
to  attack  from  such  changes  as  the  teaching  of  the 
New  Testament.  With  the  good  in  them  it  accords; 
the  error  like  a  touchstone  it  reveals.  Written 
after  that  remarkable  "inlet  into  the  word  of  God," 
which  came  to  him  in  prison,  in  consequence  of 
which  he  said:  ''The  Scriptures  that  I  saw  nothing  in 
before  are  made  in  this  place  to  shine  upon  me.  Here 
I  have  seen  Jesus  Christ ,  and  felt  Him  indeed,''  the 
Christian  truth  with  which  his  mind  was  thus  im- 
bued, and  which  he  endeavored  to  embody  in  his 
story,  was  well-nigh  free — purged  as  by  fire — from 
error,  so  that  Dean  Stanley's  words  at  the  unveiling 
of  Bunyan's  statue  in  Bedford,  in  1874,  are  forever 
true  of  the  situations  and  experiences  described  in 
the  transparent,  Hfelike  allegory:  "All  of  us  need 
to  be  cheered  by  the  help  of  Greatheart  and  Stead- 
fast and  Valiant  for  the  Truth,  and  good  old  Honest. 

226 


JOHN  BUNYAN 

Some  of  us  have  been  in  Doubting  Castle,  some  in 
the  Slough  of  Despond,  some  have  experienced  the 
temptations  of  Vanity  Fair:  all  of  us  have  to  climb 
the  Hill  Difficulty,  all  of  us  need  to  be  instructed 
by  the  Interpreter  in  the  House  Beautiful;  all  of 
us  bear  the  same  burden;  all  of  us  need  the  same 
armor  in  our  fight  with  Apollyon;  all  of  us  have  to 
pass  through  the  dark  river;  and  for  all  of  us  (if 
God  so  will)  there  wait  the  Shining  Ones  at  the 
gates  of  the  Celestial  City,  which  when  we  see,  we 
wish  ourselves  among  them." 

The  first  part  of  this  immortal  work  w^as  published 
in  imperfect  form  in  1678.  Three  editions  were 
called  for  and  published  within  a  year  (the  last,  only, 
having  the  completed  form),  showing  that  it  leaped 
at  once  into  the  popularity  which  it  has  ever  since 
enjoyed.  Nathaniel  Ponder  at  the  sign  of  the 
Peacock  was  its  publisher.  "A  modern  artist," 
says  Dr.  Brown,  "has  painted  a  picture  to  indicate 
the  instant  popularity  of  it.  A  scholar  is  coming 
out  from  under  the  sign  of  the  Peacock,  and  a  peas- 
ant, whip  in  one  hand  and  money  in  the  other,  going 
in,  while  near  the  shop-door  are  a  gay  gallant  and  a 
fair  lady,  schoolboys  and  grave  men,  all  intently 
reading  that  story  of  the  'Pilgrim'  they  have  pur- 
chased over  the  counter  within.  The  picture  is 
true  of  the  time  then,  and  true  to  the  time  now." 

The  second  part,  with  the  story  of  the  pilgrimage 
of  Christiana  and  her  children  with  their  companions, 
was  given  to  the  world  early  in  1685.  The  spelling 
of  the  book  was  the  spelling  of  an  uneducated  man, 
calling  for  correction,  but  the  style  of  it  was  Bunyan's 

227 


NINE  GREAT  PREACHERS 

own  style,  incapable  of  much  amendment.  An 
English  clergyman,  Joshua  Gilpin,  Vicar  of  Wrock- 
wardine,  in  1811,  published  "a  new  and  corrected 
edition,  in  which  the  phraseology  of  the  author  is 
somewhat  improved,"  but  the  alleged  improve- 
ment was  not  accepted  by  the  public  as  such.  The 
vicar,  though  a  highly  educated  man  and  with  the 
best  intentions  in  the  world,  was  not  a  good  judge 
of  style  and  "the  phraseology"  best  suited  to  the 
work. 

Bunyan  survived  the  completion  of  his  great  work 
about  three  years  and  a  half,  dying  in  London, 
August  31,  1688,  having  journeyed  thither  to  place 
the  MS.  of  a  new  book,  "The  Acceptable  Sacrifice," 
with  his  publisher.  His  death  was  owing  to  a  fever 
contracted  from  exposure  to  a  drenching  rain  en- 
countered on  the  way  from  Reading  to  London. 
He  had  visited  Reading,  which  lay  considerably 
out  of  his  way,  on  an  errend  of  mercy — happily 
successful.  It  was  to  bring  about  the  reconciliation 
of  an  angry  father  with  his  wayward  son.  Before 
his  fever  had  developed  he  was  able  to  preach,  of  a 
Sunday,  near  White  Chapel.  The  concluding  words 
of  his  sermon,  and  the  last  words  heard  from  his 
lips  from  the  pulpit,  were:  "Consider  that  the  holy 
God  is  your  father,  and  let  this  oblige  you  to  live 
like  the  children  of  God,  that  you  may  look  your 
father  in  the  face  with  comfort  another  day." 

He  was  buried  in  the  heart  of  London,  in  Bunhill 
Fields,  "the  Campo  Santo  of  Dissenters,"  as  it  has 
been  called,  where  the  bodies  of  John  Owen,  George 
Fox,  Isaac  Watts,  Daniel  Defoe,  Susannah  Wesley, 


JOHN  BUNYAN 

and  many  other  notable  persons  have  been  buried. 
Such  was  the  reverence  felt  for  his  piety  that  many 
of  his  contemporaries  desired  with  their  dying  breath 
that  their  bodies  might  be  buried  near  his  in  the 
expectation  of  being  associated  with  him  in  the 
Resurrection  Day.  Such  respect  for  a  man's  good- 
ness and  sanctity  b;^  his  contemporaries  is  not  always 
enduring.  Time  and  research  into  the  hidden  things 
of  his  life  often  discover  flaws  in  his  character  which 
change  contemporary  renown  into  later  disrepute. 
Not  so  with  Bunyan.  Lapse  of  time  and  the  survey 
of  his  work  and  character,  unbiased  by  religious 
prejudice,  have  only  added  luster  and  new  respect 
to  his  name.  An  interesting  proof  of  it  is  seen  in 
a  recent  item  of  news  that  has  come  to  us  from  Eng- 
land. It  is  this,  that  a  movement  has  lately  been 
started  there  to  place  in  Westminster  Abbey  a  me- 
morial window  to  John  Bunyan,  which  has  been 
heartily  favored  by  the  Archbishop  of  Canterbury 
and  other  dignitaries  of  the  Anglican  Church  as 
well  as  by  distinguished  men  of  various  dissenting 
religious  bodies;  and  a  committee  has  been  appointed 
to  raise  the  required  sum  of  five  thousand  pounds 
for  the  fulfillment  of  the  plan. 

Such  a  memorial,  in  that  place,  inaugurated  with 
appropriate  religious  ceremony,  will  be  a  beatifica- 
tion of  John  Bunyan  by  the  Anglican  Church  and 
other  Protestant  bodies  as  worthy  to  be  reckoned, 
despite  the  persecution  and  scorn  heaped  upon  him 
when  living,  among  the  saints  and  heroes  of  the 
Christian  faith,  and  among  the  noblest  exemplars 
of  its  sanctifying  power. 

2^9 


VII 
FREDERICK  W.   ROBERTSON 


vn 

FREDERICK  W.  ROBERTSON 

Born  in  London,  February   3,    1816:    Died    in 
Brighton,  August  15,  1853. 

Robertson,  all  things  considered,  we  regard  as  the 
most  remarkable  English  preacher  of  the  nineteenth 
century.  He  died  at  the  early  age  of  thirty  seven, 
and  his  active  ministry  covered  a  period  of  only 
thirteen  years ;  but  in  this  brief  period  he  did  a  work 
and  fulfilled  a  ministry  that,  for  depth  and  extent 
of  its  ultimate  influence,  was  scarcely  equaled  by 
any  contemporary  in  the  labors  of  twice  this  length 
of  time.  Notablejs^e  fact  that  this  great  influence 
was  mainly  jr'posthum^us  influence,  scarcely  recog- 
nized vvhile  hewas  living^'^^  then  only  by  a  Ifmited 
portion  of  the  English  religious  public,  but  wrought 
by  his  published  sermons  and  by  the  publication  of 
his  "Life  and  Letters,"  prepared  by  Rev.  Stopford 
Brooke,  and  given  to  the  world  twelve  years  after 
Robertson's  death.  *  Those  sermons,  widely  read 
by  ministers  of  all  denominations  and  Christian 
laymen  throughout  the  English-speaking  world,  ex- 
cited the  profoundest  and  most  lively  interest  by 
their  freshness  and  originality  of  thought,  their 
novel  statement  of  Christian  truth  and  their  impres- 
sive  style.     As    the    writer   recalls    the   impression 

233 


NINE   GREAT  PREACHERS 

which  those  sermons  made  on  his  own  mind  when 
a  Seminary  student  reading  them  as  they  first  ap- 
peared, it  seems  to  him  now  that  they  made  upon 
him  a  deeper  impression  than  the  pubHshed  sermons 
of  any  preacher  he  ever  read.  They  awakened  a 
sustained  interest  by  their  suggestiveness  and  origi- 
nahty ,  so  that  one  did  not  soon  tire  of  reading  them ; 
they  stirred  and  purified  the  heart  by  their  noble 
sentiments;  they  fructified  the  mind  with  seed 
thoughts  which  yielded  an  abundant  harvest.  They 
were  the  work  of  a  man  endowed  with  a  rare  genius 
perfected  by  careful  training  and  self-culture,  and 
refined  by  piety  and  suffering. 


His  Family  and   Early  Home  Environment 


He  belonged  to  a  military  family.     His  grand- 
father, Colonel  Robertson,  in  whose  house  in  London^ 
he  was  born,  was  a  distinguished  officer  in  the  Eng- 
lish army,  and  wounded  in  the  service.     His  father 
was  a  captain  in  the  Royal  Artillery.     Of  his  three  , 
brothers,  two,    Charles  and  Harry,    won  frequent  / 
honorable  mention  in  the  Kaffir  war,  and  Struan  / 
was  a  captain  in  the  Royal  South  Lincoln  militia./ 
The  first  five  years  of  his  life  were  passed  at  Lerth 
Fort,  near  Edinburgh,  where  his  father  was  stationed^ 
and  where  he  says  "he  was  rocked  and  cradled  to  the 
roar  of  artillery."     The  conversation  of  home  was 
of  war  and  its  exploits.     Thus  he  was  fed  and  nur- 
tured from  infancy  through  childhood  and  youth 
upon  the  anecdotes  and  associations  of  a  soldier's 
life.     Heredity  and  early  environment  contributed 

^34 


FREDERICK  W.  ROBERTSp^^  ^'  ^ 

to  produce  in  him  a  martial  spipitrjJid--DX^e  him 
eager   foTja^oldier's   career .•gTms    martial    spirit 
/^g^e  a  ton«o  his  ministry*1and  was  one  of  the  ele-     , 
\  ments  of  po^fcr  in  his  pulpit  eloquence  as  in  that  of 

Chryso»toin 

mother  were  pious  devout  people 
of  the  evangBftal  type.  The  atmosphere  of  his 
early  home  wa^lnade  sweet  and  wholesome  by  the 
best  influences  of  religion.  They  were  also  people 
of  culture  and  refinement  and  moved  in  a  social 
circle  of  the  best  class. 


II.  Education  and  Mental  Development 


i 


I  The  father  was  his  children's  earliest  teacher,  and  \ 
I  he  superintended  their  instruction  for  several  years  ] 
\  after  he  had  ceased  personally  to  give  them  lessonsV 
A±  sixteen,  after  having  become  well  grounded  in 
the  classics  and  French  languages,  Frederick  entered 
the  New  Academy,  Edinburgh,  where  he  at  once 
took  a  high  place  in  his  class.  He  possessed  the 
qualities  of  a  superior  scholar,  extraordinary  power 
of  attention,  quickness  to  learn,  and  a  retentive 
memory,  which  enabled  him  in  later  years  to  "recall 
page  after  page  of  books  which  he  had  not  read 
since  his  boyhood."  He  was  also  an  intense  worker 
and  early  formed  the  habit,  which  remained  with 
him,  of  mastering  fully  whatever  he  studied.!  Besides 
studying  at  the  Academy,  he  attended  cla^s  at  the 
University  and  gave  himself  eagerly  to  studies  in 
natural  science,  especially  chemistry  and  physics. 
Returning  home  he  wished  to  enter  the  army,  but 

^35 


NINE  GREAT  PREACHER^ 

his  father,  beheving  that  this  promising  son  was 
better  fitted  by  nature  for  the  Church  than  for  the 
army,  proposed  to  him  that  he  should  study  for  the 
ministry.  He  answered,  "Anythingbut  that;  I 
am  not  fit  for  rfT  He^was^accordingly  pfeced  uT 
a  soHcitor's  office  and  stayed  there  a  year  until  his 
health  became  impaired  by  his  sedentary  work,  and 
the  galling  influence  of  his  secret  disappointment. 
His  father  then  consented  that  he  should  follow  the 
bent  of  his  mind,  and  an  application  was  made  for 
a  commission  in  the  army.  There  was  then  no 
vacancy,  but  his  name  was  placed  on  the  list  for  a 
cavalry  regiment  in  India.  >Two  years  he  waited, 
giving  himself  enthusiastically,  meantime,  to  pur- 
suits that  would  fit  him  for  his  anticipated  career^ 
He  became  an  expert  rider,  a  good  shot,  and  an 
excellent  draughtsman.  He  omitted  nothing  likely 
to  make  him  a  good  cavalry  officer.  His  father, 
believing  from  the  long  delay  that  his  application 
had  been  forgotten  and  would  never  be  successful, 
again  proposed  to  this  son  to  enter  the  Church,  and 
was  met  again  with  the  same  decisive  refusal  ;'l!mtil 
other  friends  and  a  chain  of  circumstances,  united 
to  strengthen  the  father's  persuasions,  a^*^his  son 
at  length  yielded. ^Jn  one  of  his  sermons  in  after 
years,  to  illustrate^^ow  God's  providence  shapes  our 
course  in  life,  he  says:  "If  I  had  not  met  a  certain 
person,  I  should  not  have  changed  my  profession; 
if  I  had  not  known  a  certain  lady  I  should  not  prob- 
ably have  met  this  person;  if  that  lady  had  not  had 
a  delicate  daughter  who  was  disturbed  by  the  bark- 
ing of  my  dog;  if  my  dog  had  not  barked  that  night, 

236 


\ 


FREDERICK  W.  ROBERTSON 

I  should  now  have  been  in  the  dragoons  or  fertihzing 
the  soil  of  India."  The  decision  made,  he  promptly 
acted  upon  it  and  entered  Brasenose  College,  Oxford 
University,  being  matriculated  May-^tTTS^T!  FTve^ 
days  afterwards,  the  long-expected  letter  came  from 
the  military  secretary  of  the  English  government, 
offering  him  a  cavalry  commission  in  the  Second 
Dragoons  with  the  option  of  exchange  in  the  third 
just  embarking  for  India.  Had  the  letter  arrived 
three  weeks  sooner,  he  had  never  entered  the  Church. 
He  was  then  twenty-one  years  old.  — ^ 

Though  with  characteristic  submission  of  spirit 
he  resigned  himself  to  what  he  believed  to  be  God's 
will^  the  disappointment  nevertheless  saddened  his 
whole  life.  He  never  ceased  to  think  of  what  might 
have  been  had  his  wish  for  a  soldier's  career  been 
gratified,  and  he  indulged  a  secret,  but  sometimes 
expressed  regret  that  he  had  not  been  permitted  to 
reahze  it.  "All  his  life  long,'s  his  biographer  says, 
"he  was  a  soldier  at  heart. J^  In  the  height  of  his 
popularity  as  a  preacher,  he  said:  "I  would  rather  I 
have  led  a  forlorn  hope  than  mount  the  pulpit  /  -^ 
stairs."  ^-^       < 

The  time  covered  by  his  life  as  a  student  at  Oxford, 
1837-1840,  was  one  of  great  interest.     Among  his  ^ 

contemporaries  were  Arthur  Stanley  and  Ruskin; 
among  his  teachers  were  Buckland,  the  geologist, 
and  Thomas  Arnold,  illustrious  both  as  the  great  '] 

teacher  of  Rugby  School  and  as  lecturer  upon  history  j 

in  Oxford.     He  speaks  of  Arnold  as  "every  inch  a  j 

man";  and  has  given  us  a  picture  of  his  appearance 
at  his  opening  lecture  on  Modern  History  when,  after 

237 


NINE   GREAT  PREACHERS 

years  of  obloquy,  he  was  received  then  with  great 
honor.  **He  walked  up  to  the  rostrum  with  a  quiet 
step  and  manly  dignity."  Few,  however,  exercised 
much  influence  over  Robertson;  he  was  rather  the 
magnet  that  drew  others  to  himself. 

The  Tractarian  movement  was  nearing  its  cul- 

^mination.  He  shared  the  excitement  produced  by 
^''the  writings  of  Newman,  Pusey  and  Keble.  He 
'  heard  J.  H.  Newman  preach  some  of  his  most  famous 
sermons  and  was  deeply  impressed  by  his  preach- 
ing. But  he  never  adopted  the  distinctive  opinions 
and  ideas  of  the  Tractarians.  On  the  contrary,  he 
resisted  and  actively  combatted  them.  He  read 
carefully  the  literature  bearing  upon  the  subject 
and  formed  from  these  studies  a  conviction  from 
which  he  never  swerved,  that  the  Tractarian  lead- 
ers were  in  error  as  to  the  principal  things  they 
contended  for. 

His  biographer,  speaking  several  years  later  of 
his  attitude  of  mind  toward  the  views  of  the  High- 
Church  piety,  says:  *Tt  may  be  well  here  to  set 
that  question  at  rest.  He  had  no  sympathy  with 
their  views;  but  he  had  a  great  deal  of  sympathy 
with  the  men  who  held  them,  with  their  self-devotion, 
and  with  their  writings.  He  reverenced  the  self- 
sacrificing  work  they  were  performing  among  poor 
and  neglected  parishes.  He  said  that,  as  a  body, 
they  had  reasserted  the  doctrine  of  a  spiritual 
resurrection,  which  had  been  almost  put  out  of 
sight  by  the  'Evangelical'  party.  He  read  New- 
man's sermons  with  profit  and  delight  till  the  day 
of  his  death.     There  was  no  book  which  he  studied 

238 


FREDERICK  W.  ROBERTSON 

more  careiully  or  held  in  higher  honor  than  the 
'Christian  Year'  (of  Keble).  It  seemed  to  him  that 
some  of  'ts  poems  were  httle  short  of  inspired.  He 
saw  in  ne  importance  which  the  Tractarians  gave 
to  fprA  s  a  valuable  element  which  he  never  lost 
sight  o  in  his  teaching.  Only,  while  they  seemed  to 
say  that  forms  could  produce  life,  he  said  that  forms 
were  necessary  only  to  support  life;  but  for  that 
they  were  necessary.  To  use  his  own  illustration: 
*Bread  will  not  create  life,  but  life  cannot  be  kept  , 
up  without  bread.'  On  the  subject  of  baptism  he 
felt  no  sympathy  with  the  Evangelical  view,  which 
left  it  doubtful  whether  the  baptized  child  was  a 
child  of  God  or  not;  but  because  the  Tractarian 
view  declared  that  all  baptized  persons  were  children 
of  God,  he  could  so  far  sympathize  with  it.  But 
on  all  other  points,  starting  as  he  did  from  the  basis 
that  baptism  declared,  and  did  not  create  the  fact 
of  sonship,  his  difference  was  radical." 

In  his  endeavor  to  get  at  the  Scriptural  teaching 
upon  the  questions  discussed  he  studied  the  Bible  ^ 
most  diligently  and  thoroughly.  "It  was  his  habit 
when  dressing  in  the  morning  to  commit  to  memory 
daily  a  certain  number  of  verses  of  the  New  Testa- 
ment. In  this  way,  before  leaving  the  University, 
he  had  gone  tw^ice  over  the  English  version  and 
once  and  a  half  through  the  Greek.  With  his 
extraordinary  power  of  arrangement,  he  mentally  y^ 
combined  and  recombined  all  the  prominent  texts 
under  fixed  heads  of  subjects.  Owing  to  this  prac- 
tice, as  he  declared  afterwards,  no  sooner  was  any 
Christian  doctrine  or  duty  mentioned  or  suggested 

239 


NINE   GREAT  PREACHERS 

to  him  by  what  he  was  writing  than  ah  the  pas- 
sages bearing  on  the  point  seemed  to  arr.iy  them- 
selves in  order  before  him." 

/  This  incidental  benefit,  due  largely  to  th  Trac- 
tarian  agitation,  was  of  priceless  benefit  .  him. 
*  ^  There  was  another  result,  however,  which  he  ghtly 
or  wrongly,  much  deplored.  It.  was  that  of  desul- 
tory discoursive  reading.  Instead  of  "reading  for 
honors"  i.e. — confining  his  attention  to  the  few 
books  and  topics  recommended  in  the  college  curric- 
ulum, and  by  thorough  mastery  of  them  according 
to  a  definite  plan  seeking  to  win  class  honors,  he 
was  led  by  the  excitement  of  the  controversy,  ques- 
tions of  the  day,  "gleams  and  flashings  of  new  paths 
of  learning,"  to  desert  the  prescribed  course  and 
follow  whithersoever  they  might  draw  him,  having 
no  plan  to  guide  him.  Ten  or  twelve  years  after 
he  left  the  University  he  says:  "I  now  feel  that  I 
was  utterly,  mournfully,  irreparably  wrong.  I 
would  now  give  £200  a  year  to  have  read  on  a  bad 
plan,  chosen  for  me,  but  steadily." 

But  though  his  reading  was  thus  somewhat  mis- 
cellaneous, he  did  not  fall  into  the  fault  of  that 
"careless,  multifarious  reading,"  which,  he  says, 
"is  an  excuse  for  the  mind  to  lie  dormant  whilst 
thought  is  poured  in  and  runs  through  a  clear  stream, 
over  unproductive  gravel  on  which  not  even  mosses 
grow,"  and  which  he  reprobates  as  "the  idlest  of  all 
idlenesses,  and  leaves  more  of  impotency  than  any 
other."  "I  know  what  reading  is,"  he  said,  when 
shattered  health  forbade  close  reading,  "for  I  could 
read  once  and  did.     I  read  hard  (at  the  University), 

240 


FREDERICK  W.  ROBERTSON 

or  not  at  all,  never  skimming,  and  Plato,  Aristotle, 
Butler,  Thucydides,  Jonathan  Edwards  passed  like 
the  iron  atoms  of  the  blood  into  my  mental  con- 
stitution." Besides  these  writers  he  read  much  and 
attentively  Coleridge,  Shelley,  Shakespeare  and 
Wordsworth.  Though  not  a  writer  of  poetry  him- 
self he  had  a  poet's  sensitiveness  to  the  attractions 
of  nature,  and  the  appeal  of  human  life  in  its  differ- 
ent phases  of  heroic  sublimity,  romance,  and  touch- 
ing pathos.  He  did  not  make  many  friends  at 
Oxford  and  was  not  widely  known,  his  dispositon 
inclining  him  to  seclusion  and  solitariness.  He 
was  by  nature  shy  and  diffident.  Except  to  his 
intimate  friends  he  was  reserved  and  taciturn,  at 
the  same  time  preserving  a  proud  independence  of 
spirit,  which  made  him  pursue  his  own  course  rather 
than  be  a  follower  of  others. 

III.    His  Ministry 

The  thirteen  years  and  a  few  weeks  of  his  min- 
isterial life  were  passed  in  four  places:  Winchester, 
two  years;  Cheltenham,  five  years;  Oxford,  three 
months;   Brighton,  six  years. 

At  Winchester,  he  began  his  work  at  twenty -four 
years  of  age,  being  ordained  deacon  July  12,  1840: 
he  served  as  curate,  or  assistant,  of  Mr.  Nicholson, 
rector  of  a  large  parish  located  among  a  very  poor 
population,  where  there  was  much  infidelity  and 
immorality.  His  rector  was  an  earnest,  devoted 
man,  in  whom  he  found  "a  faithful  friend  whose 
sympathy   cheered,    and   whose   experience   guided 

16  241 


NINE  GREAT  PREACHERS 

him."  The  work  was  hard  and  beset  with  difficul- 
ties, but  "the  difficulties  of  his  position  were  his 
stimulus."  They  appealed  to  the  soldier  spirit  in 
him.  He  labored  with  all  his  heart  among  the  poor, 
and  the  working  men,  and  was  "so  earnest,  courteous 
and  eager  to  serve  that  in  a  great  measure  he  over- 
came their  prejudices."  His  way  of  life,  as  described 
by  one  of  his  Winchester  friends,  was  regular  and 
simple:  "Study  all  the  morning,  getting  up  early 
and  eating  almost  no  breakfast  in  order  to  be  able 
to  apply  himself  to  work;  in  the  afternoon,  hard 
fagging  at  visitation  of  the  poor  in  the  dirtiest  streets 
of  Winchester;  evenings,  spent  sometimes  alone, 
but  often  with  his  rector."  "He  devoted  much  of 
his  time  to  the  Sunday  school  and  made  the  teaching 
system  attractive  and  useful  by  training  the  teachers 
himself."  "A  vein  of  melancholy  ran  through 
his  character."  Not  much  society  was  offered  to 
him  and  he  did  not  wish  for  it.  "He  was  disposed 
to  regard  general  society  as  a  waste  of  time."  He 
found  devotional  reading  profitable  and  inspiring, 
especially  the  lives  of  eminently  holy  persons  whose 
tone  was  one  of  communion  with  God.  "It  made 
his  sense  of  the  reality  of  religious  feeling  more 
acute  when  he  found  it  embodied  in  the  actions  of 
men  who  expressed  it."  "Brainerd's  Life,"  written 
by  Edwards,  he  greatly  valued.  "To  my  taste," 
he  said,  "it  stands  alone  as  a  specimen  of  biography." 
He  gave  much  time  to  prayer  and  this  gave  tone  to 
his  preaching.  "His  sermons  touched  men  to  the 
quick.  They  were  delivered  with  great  ease  and 
self-command,  with  vivid  action,  and  an  impassioned 

242 


FREDERICK  W.  ROBERTSON 

earnest  manner  that  made  every  word  tell."  Though 
his  biographer  says:  "The  sermons  preached  at 
Winchester  do  not  exhibit  much  power,  are  start- 
lingly  inferior  to  those  delivered  at  Brighton,  and 
do  not,  to  the  reader,  even  foretell  his  future  excel- 
lence"; one  of  his  constant  hearers  says:  "His  ser- 
mons did  prophesy  his  future  excellence.  I  am  dis- 
posed to  say  that  they  were  never  at  any  time  more 
impressive."      * 

This  difference  of  opinion  can  be  reconciled, 
we  think.  The  sermons  of  Winchester  were  of  the 
common  evangelical  type;  their  doctrine,  that  of 
the  traditional  theology  of  the  Evangelical  School 
in  which  he  had  grown  up.  They  sound  a  familiar 
note,  which  the  widely  diffused  literature  of  that 
school  has  made  trite  and  almost  commonplace. 
Those  of  Brighton,  how^ever,  w^ere  the  product  of  a 
mind  that  had,  through  study  and  personal  con- 
viction, so  changed  and  modified  his  earlier  opinions 
of  the  Evangelical  School,  that  a  new  and  startling 
note  is  heard  in  them  and  a  note  of  stronger  personal 
passion  and  conviction,  because  the  preacher  knew 
that  his  teaching  was  likely  to  encounter  prejudice 
and  an  opposition  such  as  new  statements  or  modi- 
fications of  religious  truth  and  departures  from  the 
beaten  paths  of  theological  statements  and  belief 
are  certain  to  create. 

Robertson's  health  broke  down  under  the  system 
of  austere  regimen,  hard  study,  and  unrelaxing  toil 
which  he  had  adopted.  Toward  the  end  of  the  first 
year  a  distressing  pain  in  the  side  and  an  alarming 
cough    developed.     His    spirits    sank,    he    became 

243 


^ 


NINE  GREAT  PREACHERS 

despondent  and  his  physicians  ordered  him  to  leave 
his  work  and  go  to  Switzerland.  Before  his  depar- 
ture, he  passed  the  examination  for  priest's  orders, 
at  which  he  presented  so  remarkable  a  paper  upon 
the  duties  and  work  of  the  diaconate,  in  connection 
with  the  personal  narrative  of  his  own  experience 
in  the  office,  that  the  bishop  "retained  it  and  gave  it 
to  future  candidates  to  read  as  a  noble  example  of 
the  spirit  and  mode  in  which  the  diaconate  should 
be  fulfilled."  And  yet,  such  was  Robertson's  mor- 
bid spirit  and  disposition  to  depreciate  his  work, 
that  he  looked  back  upon  it  with  shame  and  a  sense 
of  failure. 

Proceeding  to  the  continent  he  traveled  on  foot 
up  the  Rhine,  through  portions  of  Germany  on  to 
Switzerland.  Through  the  excitement  of  healthy 
exercise  and  change  of  scene  his  sadness  gradually 
passed  away  and  his  health  was  partially  restored. 
He  keenly  appreciated  the  beautiful  and  sublime 
in  nature  and  the  interesting  traditions  of  the  Rhine 
Valley,  so  that  every  step  of  the  storied  way  was  a 
delight  to  him. 

Arrived  in  Geneva,  having  introductions  to  some 
of  its  people  of  social  eminence,  he  soon  formed  a 
circle  of  valuable  acquaintance.  He  entered  eagerly 
into  the  discussions,  social  and  religious,  which  then 
agitated  the  city.  His  brilliant  powers  of  conversa- 
tion, his  intelligence  and  enthusiasm  charmed  all 
whom  he  m^et.  Under  the  quickening  influence 
of  his  improved  health,  he  became  much  altered  for 
the  better,  as  if  actually  transformed. 

He  met  there  in  Geneva    the    illustrious    Cesar 

244 


FREDERICK  W.  ROBERTSON 

Malan,  and  had  more  than  one  eager  discussion 
with  him  over  reKgious  and  theological  questions, 
in  regard  to  which  they  differed.  Malan,  saga- 
ciously discerning  in  these  conversations  the  excit- 
able and  despondent  nature  of  the  young  man,  said 
to  him:  *'My  dear  Brother,  you  will  have  a  sad  life, 
a  sad  ministry."  He  met  there  also,  in  Geneva, 
his  future  wife,  Helen  Denys,  the  daughter  of  an 
English  Baronet,  and  after  a  short  acquaintance 
married  her,  and  soon  returned  to  England.  But 
owing  to  still  lingering  traces  of  ill  health,  he  was 
forbidden  to  take  a  ministerial  charge  for  several 
months .  At  length,  he  was  given  a  curacy  in  Chelten- 
ham, and  he  entered  upon  its  duties  in  the  summer  of 
1842  at  the  age  of  twenty-six.  Here,  as  at  Win- 
chester, he  was  happy  and  fortunate  in  being  asso- 
ciated with  a  rector.  Rev.  Archibald  Boyd,  whom  he 
greatly  respected  and  admired.  Mr  Robertson 
usually  preached  in  the  afternoon,  and  "he  soon 
began  to  exercise  upon  his  congregation  his  peculiar 
power  of  fascination."  It  was  the  fascination,  not 
merely  of  an  entrancing  voice  and  pleasing  delivery, 
but  of  a  powerful,  inspiring  mind,  rich  in  thought 
and  animated  by  deep  spiritual  cravings  and  moral 
earnestness  to  do  good.  One  who  heard  him  at  the 
beginning  of  his  ministry  in  Cheltenham  says:  "I 
was  not  merely  struck,  I  was  startled  by  the  sermon. 
The  high  order  of  thought,  the  large  and  clear  con- 
ception, the  breadth  of  view,  the  passion  held  in 
leash,  the  tremulously  earnest  tone,  the  utter  forget- 
fulness  of  self  in  his  subject,  and  the  abundance  of 
the  heart  out  of  which  the  mouth  spake,  made  me  feel 

245 


NINE  GREAT  PREACHERS 

that  here,  indeed,  was  one  whom  it  would  be  well 
to  miss- no  opportunity  of  hearing."  "From  the 
first,"  says  this  informant,  "he  largely  swayed  those 
minds  which  had  any  point  of  contact  with  his  own. 
In  spite  of  what  he  says  of  Cheltenham,  he  had  very 
many  hearers  there,  who  knew  how  to  rate  him  at 
his  proper  value,  before  a  larger  public  had  indorsed 
it.  Nor  was  it  among  the  laymen  and  women  of 
Cheltenham  alone  that  he  made  his  influence  felt. 
At  the  clerical  meetings  he  attended,  he  would  for 
the  most  part  remain  silent,  but  sometimes  when 
many  of  his  brethren  were  in  difficulty  about  the 
meaning  of  a  text  he  would  startle  them  by  saying 
a  few  simple  words,  which  shed  a  flood  of  new  light 
upon  the  passage.  He  never  put  himself  forward, 
but  his  talents  were  none  the  less  recognized  and 
held  in  honor  by  the  foremost  of  his  brother  clergy- 
men." 

He  exercised  his  peculiar  fascination  not  only  in 
the  pulpit  and  upon  gatherings  of  clergymen,  but 
by  his  conversation  in  social  circles.  "He  was  a 
marvelously  bright  and  eloquent  talker,"  his  biog- 
rapher says,  and  "he  was  cordially  welcome  every- 
where." "Perhaps  his  influence  on  society  was  more 
powerful,  as  more  insensible,  than  his  influence  in 
the  pulpit."  Society  on  the  other  hand  greatly 
stimulated  and  influenced  him.  "Some  of  his 
highest  and  best  thoughts  were  kindled  by  sparks 
which  fell  from  the  minds  of  his  friends.  His  inter- 
course even  with  inferiors  in  intelligence  and  culture 
was  always  fruitful.  He  took  their  ideas  and, 
putting  the  stamp  of  his  own  mind  upon  them, 

246 


FREDERICK  W.  ROBERTSON 

used  them  to  serve  his  purpose.  '*It  was  not  that 
he  unfairly  appropriated  what  belonged  to  others, 
but  that  he  made  it  his  own  by  the  same  tenure  as 
property  is  first  held,  by  the  worth  he  gave  to  it." 
To  such  a  man  society  is  helpful  and  necessary 
that  he  may  do  his  best. 

Three  things  contributed  greatly  to  the  develop- 
ment and  enrichment  of  his  mind  in  Cheltenham: 
friends,  the  social  atmosphere  of  the  town,  and  the 
books  he  read.  Prominent  among  his  friends  was 
Mr.  Boyd,  his  rector.  "The  influence  of  this  friend- 
ship," says  his  biographer,  "was  clearly  marked. 
It  bore  fruit  in  his  sermons.  Under  the  impulse 
given  by  those  of  Mr.  Boyd,  they  became  entirely 
changed  in  character.  Instead  of  writing  them  in 
one  morning,  without  preparation,  as  at  Winchester 
[which  method  is  essentially  that  of  mere  improvisa- 
tion, in  which  what  is  written  is  superficial,  coming 
from  the  top  of  the  mind,  instead  of  from  its  richer 
depths],  he  studied  for  them  on  Thursday  and  Friday, 

and  wrote  them  carefully  on  Saturday 

Their  tone  was  more  intellectual,  without  being 
less  earnest;  their  generalizations  more  daring  and 
their  practical  teaching  wider.  Through  the  ideal 
which  this  friendship  created,  much  of  his  peculiar 
intellectual  power  in  preaching  was  drawn  to  the 

light." 

Another  friendship  was  formed  with  a  gentleman 
well-read  in  metaphysics  and  acquainted  with  the 
results  of  recent  theological  and  philosophical  dis- 
cussions in  Germany.  Their  conversations  were 
frequent  and  interesting  and  actuated  by  love  of 

247 


NINE  GREAT  PREACHERS 

the  truth;  and  "it  was  partially,  at  least,  due  to  this 
friendship  that  Mr.  Robertson  escaped  from  the 
trammels  which  had  confined  his  intellect  and  spirit." 
The  social  atmosphere  of  Cheltenham  was  that  of 
a  fashionable  watering  place,  or  health  resort  like 
Saratoga.  It  was  frequented,  like  Saratoga,  by 
religious  people,  especially  of  the  Evangelical  sort. 
At  that  time  it  was  a  "hotbed  of  religious  excite- 
ment." The  controversy  of  the  "Tracts  for  the 
Times"  was  at  its  height.  There  were  the  usual 
tests  of  orthodoxy  applied  to  every  new  clergyman, 
and  the  usual  ban  placed  on  those  who  could  not. 
repeat  the  accepted  Shibboleth.  To  hold  certain 
doctrines  and  to  speak  certain  phrases  and  to  feel 
certain  feelings  was  counted  equivalent  to  a  Chris- 
tian life  by  many  in  the  congregations.  There  was 
in  all  this  talk  much  sham  and  religious  pretense 
which  voiced  itself  in  hollow  cant.  At  first,  with 
unquestioning  charity  he  believed  that  all  who 
spoke  of  Christ  were  Christlike.  "His  truthful 
character,  his  earnestness,  at  first  unconsciously 
and  afterwards  consciously,  recoiled  from  all  the 
unreality  about  him.  So  disgusted  was  he  by  the 
expression  of  religious  emotion  which  fell  from  those 
who  were  living  a  merely  fashionable  life,"  that  he 
gave  up  reading  devotional  books  (which  he  after- 
wards confessed  was  a  mistake),  lest  he  should 
fall  into  the  same  habit.  Jle  was  also  shocked  by 
the  intolerance  and  harsh  criticisms  indulged  in  by 
the  orthodox  people  and  the  religious  papers  of  the 
Evangelical  School,  like  the  Record  and  the 
Guardian,   which  denounced    suspected  men  with- 

248 


FREDERICK  W.  ROBERTSON 

out  any  regard  to  the  truth  of  their  charges.  "They 
tell  lies  in  the  name  of  God,"  he  said,  and  their 
dishonesty  and  bigotry  shook  his  faith  in  the  Evan- 
gelical system.  The  misrepresentations  and  imperti- 
nences of  what  he  called  "his  muslin  Episcooate" 
(the  coterie  of  gossiping  women  who  tried  to  shape 
his  opinions  and  curb  the  freedom  and  honesty  of 
his  speech)  added  to  his  estrangement  from  the 
Evangelical  party,  until,  in  his  strong  reprobation 
of  the  faults  of  that  party  and  reaction  from  their 
offensive  dogmatism,  he  found  himself  gradually 
parting  from  the  school  in  which  he  had  been  reared 
and  with  which  he  had  so  far  worked.  He  unfairly 
charged  upon  the  Evangelical  system  of  doctrine 
the  faults  of  its  adherents  and  advocates.  He  forgot 
that  the  truth  may  have  false  adherents  and  faulty 
people  that  advocate  it,  as  well  as  error.  In  his 
loss  of  confidence  in  a  portion  of  the  Evangelical 
School  he  was  disposed  to  repudiate  entirely  their 
theology,  notwithstanding  the  fact  that  it  was  held 
by  his  father  and  mother,  and  had  been  held  by 
some  of  the  most  saintly  people  in  the  past,  like 
Simeon,  Wilberforce,  Scott,  Newton  and  Venn. 
"It  must  be  said,"  admits  his  biographer,  "that 
he  himself  showed  but  scant  justice  to  the  Evangel- 
ical party.  He  seems  to  have  imputed  to  all  its 
adherents  the  views  of  the  Record  newspaper. 
He  sometimes  forces  conclusions  upon  them  which 
the  great  body  of  them  would  repudiate.  He  uncon- 
sciously overstates,  in  his  letters,  some  of  their 
opinions."  He  went  too  far,  no  doubt,  so  far  as  to 
be   unjust   to   the   system  he   thus    forsook.     The 

249 


NINE   GREAT  PREACHERS 

influence  of  the  social  atmosphere  of  Cheltenham 
on  Robertson's  mind  was,  therefore,  to  a  great 
extent  baneiul.  It  developed  in  him  an  antagonism 
and  bitterness  of  spirit;  a  bewilderment  of  mind 
whose  effect  for  a  time  was  to  make  him  severe 
and  uncharitable  in  his  judgments;  an  uncertainty 
in  regard  to  the  truth  until  emancipated  from  a 
narrow  traditionalism  by  accession  of  new  light  and 
broadened  and  strengthened  in  other  ways.  "When 
he  escaped  from  it,"  his  biographer  says,  "he  sprang 
from  a  dwarf  into  a  giant." 

But  the  break  with  the  evangelical  faith  in  which 

he  had  been  reared,  and  which  he  held  in  the  earlier 

years  of  his  ministry  at  Cheltenham,  did  not  come 

^y-^  "     suddenly.     It  was  gradual,   and  not  complete  for 

\        some  time;    not  until  he  had  ended  his  work  in 

Cheltenham.     During    the    process    his    mind    was 

V  clouded,  and  he  groped  blindly  for  the  truth.     It 

was  apparent  in  his  preaching,  so  that  his  intimate 

friends  perceived  it  by  the  uncertainty  of  his  tone 

and    the    obscurity    of    his    utterances — something 

unusual  with  him.     "One  of  these,"   we  are  told, 

"who  was  with  him  at  the  English  Lakes,  said  to 

him  one  day  with  some  sharpness,  pointing  to  the 

summit  of  Skiddaw,   which   was  unseen  the   while 

\    for  mist, — 'I  would  not  have  my  head  like  the  peak 

of  that  mountain,  involved,  as   we  see  it  now,  in 

\    cloud,  for  all  that  you  would  offer  me.'     'I  would,' 

\  rejoined  Robertson,  'for  by  and  by  the  cloud  and 

I  mist  will  roll  away,  and  the  sun  will  come  down  upon 

it  in  all  his  glory.'  " 

His  faith  was  justified.     To  another  friend,  later 

250 


/ 


n/ 


FREDERICK  W.  ROBERTSON 

/-/ 
on,  he  wrote:  "A  man  ought  to  burn  his  own  smoke   / 

if  he  cannot  convert  it  into  clear  flame.     I  am  quite  | 

wilHng  to   struggle    on    in    tw^ilight   until   the  light 

comes.     Manly  struggle  cannot  fail.     Only  a  man 

must  struggle   alone.     His   own  view  of  truth,   or       j 

rather  his  own  way  of  viewing  it  and  that  alone, 

will  give  him  rest." 

It  is  not  strange  that,  while  his  mind  was  in  this 
state,  and  his  pulpit  utterances  so  affected  by  it, 
he  was  misunderstood,  misrepresented,  and  criticised  \ 
by  some  of  his  hearers.  This  was  galling  to  his 
sensitive  nature,  and  made  him  think  that  his  work 
was  an  entire  failure.  "Through  the  mist  which 
his  ow^n  sensitiveness  (and  doubts)  created  he  saw 
the  misconceptions  of  a  few  magnified  into  a  phantom 
of  failure."  But  he  struggled  on  to  the  end  of  his 
work  in  Cheltenham,  doing  faithfully  what  his 
pastoral  office  required.  He  was  especially  pains- 
taking, here,  as  in  every  parish  he  served,  in  the 
preparation  of  his  class  of  young  persons  for  confirma- 
tion. "The  labor  which  every  year  he  bestowed 
upon  this  work,"  says  his  biographer,  "was  great. 
He  personally  interested  himself  in  all  the  candidates. 
The  heavier  the  clay,  the  more  pains  in  his  tillage." 

The  influence  of  his  reading  and  studies  was  to 
expand  and  enrich  his  mind.  He  read  widely  and 
thoughtfully.  Carlyle,  Niebuhr,  Guizot,  works  on 
natural  science,  Tennyson  and  Dante,  he  thoroughly 
studied  and  appreciated.  Dante,  he  read  daily 
and  committed  the  whole  of  the  "Inferno"  to 
memory.  Tennyson's  poems  were  devoured  as  they 
appeared.     Of  Tennyson's  "In  Memoriam,"  he  said: 

251 


NINE  GREAT  PREACHERS 

"To  me  it  has  been  the  richest  treasure  I  have  had. 
It  is  the  most  precious  work  published  this  century." 

"He  had  a  useful  habit  of  reading  on  the  questions 
of  the  day.     Owing  to  it  he  was  always  ready  with 
a  well-considered  view  of  all  the  subjects  which 
agitated    the    country    durmg^  his    career;.^/  Most 
Ihlpbr  Lailt*^l^"9fl7"te  read  constantly  and  critically 
the  Bible,  the  Old  Testament  and  the  New.     He 
studied  the  Gospel  until  he  made  the  mind  of  Christ 
his  own  and  the  personality  of  Christ  as  real  as  that 
of  his  most  intimate  friend.^  He  read  not  only  for 
the  joy  which  knowledge  gives,  butto^^guicken  hj^^^ 
mind  to  creative  power.  rTTo^  friend  he  gave  this 
couhseT,  basingSws-ad^ice,  no  doubt,  upon  his  own    I 
practice:     "Receive,   imbibe   and   then   your   mind    | 
will  create.     Poets  are  creators  because  recipients,    i 
They  open  their  hearts  to  Nature  instead  of  going    ! 
to  her  with  views  of  her  already  made  and  second-    : 
hand:   they  come  from  her  and  give  out  what  they 
\    /have  felt  and  what  she  said  to  them.     So  with  Scrip-    | 
ture;    patient,  quiet,  long-revering  listening  to  it; 
then,  suggestions."  : 

He  made  one  great  mistake,  that  of  neglecting  | 
to  take  regular  outdoor  exercise.  In  deference  to 
what  was  thougEt'  suitable  to  a  clergyman,  "he  , 
allowed  himself  none  of  the  healthful  exercises  which  | 
he  loved  except  an  occasional  walk  and  ride  into 
the  country."  To  a  person  of  his  morbid,  sensitive  \ 
nature,  smarting  under  criticism  and  given  to  brood-  ' 
ing  over  and  magnifying  the  import  of  what  he  heard  | 
said  of  himself,  Nature's  influence  was  especially  | 
needed  as  an  antidote  to  his  vexed  and  distempered    ! 

252 


•I 

j 

FREDERICK  W.  ROBERTSON 

soul.  He  needed  the  tranquil  effect  of  her  magnifi- 
cence and  calm,  and  when  tired  and  exhausted  with  ; 
study,  he  needed  the  restorative  invigorating  effect  ; 
of  pure  air  and  exercise  amid  her  diverting  scenes  \ 
and  beautiful  objects.  Happy  would  it  have  been  { 
for  him  had  he  acted  upon  the  advice  of  his  favorite  | 
poet,  Wordsworth: — 

''Come  forth  into  the  light  of  things,  i 

Let  Nature  be  your  teacher. 

*****  , 

*'She  has  a  world  of  ready  wealth,  j 

Our  minds  and  hearts  to  bless, —  1 

Spontaneous  wisdom  breathed  by  health,  i 

Truth  breathed  by  cheerfulness, 

i 

"One  impulse  from  a  vernal  wood 
May  teach  you  more  of  man. 

Of  moral  evil  and  of  good,  j 

Than  all  the  sages  can.  ! 

"Sweet  is  the  lore  which  Nature  brings;  i 

Our  meddling  intellect  | 

Mis-shapes  the  beauteous  forms  of  things,  | 

We  murder  to  dissect. 

i 

"Enough  of  Science  and  of  Art!  ' 

Close  up  those  barren  leaves; 

Come  forth,  and  bring  with  you  a  heart  I 

That  watches  and  receives."  ' 

Wordsworth's  The  Tables  Turned.  J 


Near  the  end  of  five  years  his  position  in  Chel-  | 

tenham  became  intolerable  and  he  resolved  that  he  j 

must  sunder  his  connection  with  the  church  he  was  1 

serving    and    the   Evangelical    School    with    which 

253 


NINE   GREAT  PREACHERS 

he  had  been  identified.     "Within  its  pale,  for  him, 
there  was  henceforth  neither  hfe,  peace,  nor  reaUty."    | 
Acting  upon  this  conviction  he  started  for  the 
^  continent  in  September,  1846,  in  the  middle  of  the 
V"^  thirty-first  year  of  his   age,   going  directly  to  the  v 
Tyrol  by  way  of  Munich,    and  to  the  vicinity  of    i 
Innsbruck;     thence,   later,   on   to   Switzerland   and    i 
then  to  Heidelberg,  where,  for  six  or  eight  Sundays    ] 
in  the  absence  of  the  chaplain  of  the  English  con-    j 
gregation,  he  occupied  the  pulpit  to  the  great  delight    i 
of  the  people. 

In  the  six  or  eight  weeks  spent  in  the  Tyrol  and 
\\  Switzerland  he  passed  through  the  great  spiritual   >- 
crisis  of  his  life.     The  sublime  scenery  of  the  Alpine    ^ 
region  and  the  healthful  exercise  he  took  in  exploring    i 
it    afforded    the    medicine    he    needed.     There    he    ' 
wrestled  with  his  doubts  and  fears,  and  conquered. 
The  stages  of  the  conflict  are  veiled  in  mystery. 
His  biographer  does  not  describe  them,   nor  does 
Robertson  himself  do  more  than  hint  at  them.     He 
kept  no  diary  that  has  ever  been  found,  by  whose 
records  we  can  trace  them.     The  following  passage, 
however,  in  a  lecture  to  the  workingmen  of  Brighton    ; 
refers  to  this  crisis  in  his  religious  faith:    "It  is  an    i 
awful  moment  when  the  soul  begins  to  feel  the  noth-    ■ 
ingness  of  many  of  the  traditional  opinions  which    ' 
have  been  received  with  implicit  confidence,   and 
in    that   horrible    insecurity   begins    also   to    doubt 
whether  there  be  anything  to  believe  at  all.     In  that 
fearful  loneliness  of  spirit,  when  those  who  should    { 
have  been  his  friends  and  counselors  bid  him  stifle 
his  doubts,  to  extinguish  as  a  glare  from  hell  that    i 

254  ^ 


FREDERICK  W.  ROBERTSON 

which  for  aught  he  knows  may  be  hght  from  heaven, 
and  everything  seemed  wrapped  in  hideous  uncer- 
tainty, I  know  of  but  one  way  in  which  a  man  may 
come  forth  from  his  agony  scathless;  it  is  by  holding 
fast  to  those  things  that  are  certain  still — the  grand 
simple  landmarks  of  morality.  If  there  be  no  God 
and  no  future  state,  yet  even  then  it  is  better  to  be 
generous  than  selfish,  better  to  be  chaste  than  licen- 
tious, better  to  be  true  than  false,  brave  than  a 
coward.  Blessed  beyond  all  earthly  blessedness  is 
the  man  who  in  the  tempestuous  darkness  of  the 
soul  has  dared  to  hold  fast  to  those  venerable  land- 
marks. Thrice  blessed,  because  his  night  shall  pass 
into  clear  bright  day,  with  a  faith  and  hope  and 
trust  no  longer  traditional,  but  his  own."  Dr. 
Brastow's  statement  seems  to  be  a  good  summary 
of  the  truth:  "All  such  changes  are  likely  to  come 
gradually  and  the  process  is  likely  to  be  obscure. 
Without  doubt  in  his  case  the  transformation  was 
more  gradual  and  inward  and  silent  than  appears 
at  the  surface  of  his  life,  although  the  culmination 
was  rapid,  and  seems  to  have  been  limited  to  the 
course  of  a  few  months,  after  which  he  emerged  into 
a  new  and  singularly  sudden  consciousness  of  power, 
and  his  growth  thence  onward  is  marvelous." 
("Representative  Preachers.") 

After  an  absence  of  only  three  months  he  returned 
to  Cheltenham,  but  to  no  more  service  there  in  the 
ministry,  having  resigned  his  curacy  while  at  Heidel- 
berg. 

While  waiting  for  another  charge  he  said:  "If  I 
take   work,    it   must   be   single-handed.     I   can   no 

255 


NINE   GREAT  PREACHERS 

longer  brook  to  walk  in  leading  strings  (as  curate  to 
a  rector)." 

He  wrote  to  Wilberforce,  then  bishop  of  Oxford, 
and  asked  for  emplo^^ment.  The  bishop  offered 
him  the  charge  of  St.  Ebbe's,  Oxford,  a  church  in 
one  of  the  worst  parts  of  the  town.  He  accepted 
the  charge,  and  immediately  his  preaching  there 
attracted  attention.  "The  undergraduates,  a  sensi- 
tive touchstone  of  a  man's  worth,  dropped  in  one  by 
one  at  first,  and  then  rushed  to  hear  him  in  crowds." 
Here  for  the  first  time  he  was  entirely  free,  able  to 
say,  without  opposition  from  without,  without  a 
shadow  of  inward  restraint,  the  thing  in  his  own 
heart.  Here,  too,  for  the  first  time,  perhaps,  he 
rested  firmly  on  principles  which  he  had  secured  at 
the  price  of  a  terrible  spiritual  contest.  He  became 
more  peaceful.  The  dark  shadow  of  failure  began 
to  pass  away." 

Of  the  light  into  which  he  had  come,  and  the 
resulting  assurance  henceforth  enjoyed  by  him  he 
thus  speaks  in  his  later  letters:  "I  would  not  ex- 
change the  light  I  have  for  the  twilight  I  have  left 
for  all  that  the  earth  can  give.  Clearer,  brighter 
light  every  day  and  more  assurance  of  what  truth 
is  and  whom  I  serve.  I  walk  not  in  doubt  but  in 
the  light  of  noonday  certainty."  Of  his  pulpit 
teaching  thenceforward  he  says:  "I  could  not  tell 
you  too  strongly  my  own  deep  and  deepening  con- 
viction that  the  truths  which  I  teach  are  true. 
Every  year  they  shed  fresh  light  on  one  another  and 
seem  to  stretch  into  immensity.  They  explain  to 
me  life,  God,  and  the  Bible;   and  I  am  certain  that 

256 


FREDERICK  W.  ROBERTSON 

what  fresh  Kght  I  shall  receive  will  be  an  expansion 
and  not  a  contradiction  of  what  I  have.  The  prin- 
ciples are  rooted  in  human  nature,  God  and  the 
being  of  things,  and  I  find  them  at  the  root  of  every 
page  of  Scripture." 

The  chief  "principles"  on  which  he  taught  were: 

1.  The  establishment  of  ^positive  truth  instead 
of  the  negative  4i^truction  of  error.       ~   ^- 

2.  Spiritual  truth  is^d^_scerned  by  the  spirit  in- 
stead of  intellectually  in  propositions;  and  there- 
fore truth  should  be  taught  suggestively  not  dog- 
matically. 

3.  That  belief  in  the  human  character  of  Christ's 
humanity  must  be  antecedent  to  belief  in  his  divine 
origin. 

4.  That  Christianity,  as  its  teachers  should,  works 
from  the  inward  to  the  outward,  and  not  vice  versa. 

5.  That  truth  is  made  up  of  two  opposite  proposi- 
tions, and  not  found  in  a  via  media  between  the  two. 

6.  The  soul  of  goodness  in  things  evil. 

Mr.  Robertson  had  been  in  charge  of  St.  Ebbe's, 
Oxford,  only  two  months,  when  the  rectorship  of 
Trinity  Chapel,  Brighton,  was  offered  him.  He 
promptly  declined  it  with  its  more  ample  salary  and 
larger  prospect  of  influence,  believing  himself  bound 
in  honor  to  stay  where  he  was.  He  was  induced, 
however,  by  the  trustees  of  Trinity  to  submit  the 
matter  to  his  bishop,  and  the  bishop  advised  him  to 
go.  He  accordingly  entered  upon  his  labors  in 
Brighton,  August  15,  1847,  in  his  thirty-second  year. 

Brighton  is  the  great  watering  place  of  England. 
If   Cheltenham  is   like   Saratoga,   Brighton   is   like 

17  257 


NINE   GREAT  PREACHERS  ! 

Atlantic  City.     It  had  the  attractions  and  difficul- 
ties of  such  a  place.     Some  of  the  trials  that  had  ' 
afflicted   him    at    Cheltenham    vexed   him    still    at  i 
Brighton.     People  of  all  religious  schools  frequented  | 
it,  and  the  new  rector  of  Trinity  quickly  attracted  | 
their  attention.     The  conservative,  critical  hearers  : 
of  the  Evangelical  School  detected  a  new   strange  \ 
%  note  in  his  preaching.     His  views  of  religious  truth,  j 
his  modes  of  stating  Christian  doctrines,  his  inter-  j 
pretation  of  the   Scriptures,   seemed   to  them  not  ; 
only  novel  but  at  variance  with  the  traditional  belief  j 
of  the  Evangelical   School,   and  they   shook  their 
heads  in  disapproval.     Soon  after  his  coming,  early 
in  the  year  of  1848,  he  began  a  course  of  lectures  , 
on  the  first  book  of  Samuel.     It  will  be  remembered 
that  those  were  exciting  times  in  England,  and  the 
Continent  of  Europe  was  heaving  with  the  throes 
of  political  and  social  excitement  and  of  incipient 
revolution.     In  the  exposition  of  that  sacred  book,   j 
and  commenting  upon  the  events  recorded  there,  he  j 
had  to  treat  of  topics  that  were  then  engrossing  ' 
much  thought,  and  eagerly  discussed  in  England;   \ 
such  topics  as,  the  rights  of  rulers,  the  rights  of  i 
property,  the  rights  of  labor,  the  brotherhood  of  \ 
man,   etc.     Says  his  biographer;    *Tt  was  not  his   | 
fault  that  these  lectures,  running  side  by  side  with 
the  national  convulsions  and  social  excitements  of   \ 
Europe   and   England,   had   a   double   interest,    an   | 
ancient  and  modern  one."     A  cry  was  raised  against   j 
him.     He  was  spoken  of  as  a  revolutionist  and  a    ; 
democrat.     An  anonymous  letter  was  sent  to  the    i 
bishop  accusing  him  of  preaching  on  political  sub- 

258  I 


FREDERICK  W.  ROBERTSON 

jects  in  a  manner  calculated  to  disturb  still  more  the 
feelings  of  the  workingmen  of  Brighton.  He  an- 
swered, that  "if  the  principles  revealed  in  the  in- 
spired history  of  Israelitish  society  happened  to  be 
universal,  and  to  fit  current  events,  it  only  proved 
the  deep  inspiration  and  universal  character  of  the 
Bible,  and  he  was  not  to  be  blamed." 

He  was  charged  with  being  a  Radical  in  politics 
and  in  religion.  To  this  charge  he  thus  replies  in 
a  letter  to  a  friend:  "When  I  first  heard  the  charge 
of  radicalism,  I  was  astounded.  I  had  tried  to  feel 
the  meaning  of  Christ's  words  and  to  make  my  heart 
beat  with  His;  and  so  I  became  what  they  call  a 
Radical.  Nevertheless  the  Radicals  and  the  Chart- 
ists refuse  to  own  me  as  a  brother,  and  call  me  a 
rabid  Tory.  However,  of  one  thing  I  have  become 
distinctly  conscious,  that  my  motto  for  life,  my 
whole  heart's  expression,  is,  'None  but  Christ'; 
not  in  the  (so-called)  evangelical  sense,  which  I 
take  to  be  the  sickliest  cant  that  has  appeared  since 
the  Pharisees  bare  record  to  the  gracious  words 
that  he  spake,  and  then  tried  to  cast  him  headlong 
from  the  hill  of  Nazareth;  but  in  a  deeper  real  sense, 
the  mind  of  Christ;  to  feel  as  he  felt;  to  judge  the 
world  and  to  estimate  the  w^orld's  maxims  as  he 
judged  and  estimated.  That  is  to  feel  'none  but 
Christ.'  But  then  in  proportion  as  a  man  does 
that,  he  is  stripping  himself  of  garment  after  garment, 
till  his  soul  becomes  naked  of  that  which  once  seemed 
part  of  himself;  he  is  not  only  giving  up  prejudice 
after  prejudice,  but  also  renouncing  sympathy  after 
sympathy  with  friends  whose  smile  and  approbation 

259 


NINE   GREAT  PREACHERS 

was  once  his  life,  till  he  begins  to   suspect  that  he 
will  be  very  soon  alone  with  Christ." 

Through  his  preaching  and  because  of  his  friendly 
and  sympathetic  interest  in  the  working  classes,  in 
common  with  Kingsley  and  Maurice,  he  was  charged 
with  Socialism,  and  heresy  and  general  unsoundness. 
The  Record  newspaper,  the  organ  of  Evangeli- 
calism, which  had  expressed  suspicions  about  him 
when  in  Cheltenham,  resumed  its  attacks.  Refer- 
ring to  them  in  a  letter  to  a  friend  he  said:  "God 
forbid  they  should  ever  praise  me.  One  number 
alone  contained  four  unscrupulous  lies  about  me  on 
no  better  evidence  than  that  some  one  had  told 
them,  who  had  been  told  by  some  one  else.  They 
shall  have  no  disclaimer  from  me.  If  the  Record 
can  put  a  man  down,  the  sooner  he  is  put  down  the 
better.  The  only  time  I  have  ever  said  anything 
about  socialism  in  the  pulpit  has  been  to  preach 
against  it.  An  evangelical  clergyman  admitted 
some  proofs  I  had  given  of  the  Record's  dishonesty, 
but  said:  'Well,  in  spite  of  that,  I  like  it,  because 
it  upholds  the  truth,  and  is  a  great  witness  for  reli- 
gion.' Said  I,  Ts  that  the  creed  of  Evangelicalism? 
A  man  may  be  a  liar  and  slanderous,  and  still  uphold 
the  truth!'  He  felt  an  ineffable  scorn  for  such  a 
Christianity  as  that,  and  denied  with  indignation 
this  claim  that  the  Record,  as  the  accredited  organ 
of  the  Evangelical  party,  having  been  admitted 
by  the  confession  of  its  own  followers  and  supporters 
to  be  convicted  of  flagrant  falsehood  and  dishonesty, 
could  be  said  to  "uphold  the  truth  and  be  a  great 
witness    for    religion."     He    insisted,    and    rightly, 

260 


FREDERICK  W.  ROBERTSON 

that  it  was  untrue  to  Christ  and  false  to  its  own 
past  history,  and  hence  said,  rather  harshly  perhaps, 
"The  evangehcaHsm  (so-called)  of  the  Record 
is  an  emasculated  cur,  snarling  at  what  is  better 
than  itself." 

If,  in  answer  to  his  indignant  inquiry,  "Is  that 
the  creed  of  evangelicalism?"  the  supporters  of  that 
School  assented,  he  did  not  hesitate  to  repudiate 
it.  He  was  justified  in  doing  so,  as  much  as  Luther 
and  the  Protestant  Reformers  were  justified  in 
seceding  from  the  corrupt  Catholic  Church  of  their 
day.  Dr.  J.  H.  Jowett,  in  an  admirable  article 
{The  Congregationalist,  June  10,  1912)  on  "Trust- 
ing One's  Instincts,"  rightly  says,  that  in  view  of 
Christ's  standard  of  judgment,  "By  their  fruits  ye 
shall  know  them":  "We  are  not  to  be  concerned 
with  the  label  but  with  the  fruit.  Men  are  to  be 
judged  not  by  their  professions,  but  by  their  charac- 
ter, not  by  their  theology,  but  by  their  life."  We  lay 
the  emphasis  on  the  wrong  thing,  therefore,  when  we 
rate  what  has  been  reckoned  a  sound  theology  above 
a  sound  morality.  Robertson,  who  had  learned, 
as  we  have  seen,  the  mind  of  Christ,  by  studying 
his  teachings  as  few  men  of  his  time  studied  them, 
laid  the  emphasis  where  Christ  laid  it,  and  the 
religious  world  now  reverences  his  memory  for 
doing  so. 

It  is  distasteful  to  us  to  revive  the  memories  of 
theological  controversy  with  its  bitter  rancor  and 
resentments  after  the  period  of  more  than  sixty 
years,  and  when  the  participants  in  it  have  passed 
"to  the  world  that  will   decide,"   as  Baxter  says, 

261 


NINE   GREAT  PREACHERS 

"all  our  controversies,  and  the  safest  passage  thither 
is  by  peaceable  holiness";  but  we  are  justified, we 
think  in  doing  so,  since  thus  only  can  Robertson's 
violent  break  with  "Evangelicalism"  be  excused, 
and  the  heated  atmosphere  of  his  environment  at 
Cheltenham  and  Brighton  be  understood.  His 
biographer  speaks  of  "the  intense  sensitiveness 
which  pervaded  his  whole  nature"  and  says  it  was 
"the  root  of  all  that  was  peculiar  in  Robertson's 
character  and  correspondence."  "His  senses,  his 
passions,  his  imagination,  his  conscience,  his  spirit, 
were  so  delicately  wrought  that  they  thrilled  and 
vibrated  to  the  slightest  touch."  Made  morbid 
by  disease,  it  was  unquestionably  an  infirmity  which 
sometimes  betrayed  itself  especially  in  his  letters  to 
intimate  friends.  He  tried,  however,  conscientiously 
to  curb  it,  and  he  so  schooled  himself  to  patience 
and  self-control  that  he  rarely,  in  public,  said  or 
did  anything  unseemly.  He  held  on  to  himself,  that 
as  a  Christian,  he  might  show  "the  meekness  and 
gentleness  of  Christ." 

But  close  observers  discerned  the  truth.  "His 
very  calm,"  Lady  Byron  said,  "was  a  hurricane." 
Rev.  J.  H.  Jowett,  D.D.,  calls  this  quality,  however, 
a  weakness  that  was  like  St.  Paul's  thorn  in  the 
flesh,  which  by  God's  grace  turned  to  his  advantage. 
"Robertson  of  Brighton,"  he  says,  "was  extremely 
sensitive.  He  was  easily  jarred.  His  whole  being 
was  as  full  of  feeling  as  the  eye.  He  prayed  for 
the  removal  of  the  infirmity,  and  the  thorn  remained. 
But  his  prayer  was  answered.  His  very  Weakness 
was  made  the  vehicle  of  strength.     His  sensitiveness 

262 


FREDERICK  W.  ROBERTSON 

gave  him  his  sense  of  awe  and  triumph  in  the  pres- 
ence of  nature.  It  gave  him  his  almost  instinctive 
sense  of  the  characters  of  men.  It  gave  him  his 
superlatively  fine  apprehension  of  the  secrets  of  the 
Most  High.  God  gave  him  a  sufiiciency  of  grace, 
and  through  his  apparent  infirmity  God's  power  was 
made  perfect."  Falsehood  and  hypocrisy,  cruelty 
and  oppression,  the  sin  of  the  strong  against  the 
weak,  kindled  his  wrath,  and  his  flaming  indignation 
expressed  itself  in  stirring  eloquence.  But  we 
believe  it  was  Christlike  indignation,  and  that  the 
eloquence  it  inspired  was  wholesome  for  men  to 
hear.     The  people  of  Brighton  soon  realized  it. 

All  classes  were  drawn  to  Trinity  and  it  was 
crowded  to  the  doors.  Henry  Crabbe  Robinson, Lady 
Byron  and  other  representatives  of  the  literary  class 
and  of  the  aristocracy  were  there,  and  servants  and 
w^orkingmen.  Thoughtful  and  eager-minded  men 
came  in  from  all  parts  of  Brighton  attracted  not  only 
by  his  eloquence  but  by  his  original  thought,  clear 
reasoning,  and  the  ajffluence  of  his  mind  in  illustra- 
tions of  the  truth.  "His  mind  was  crowded  with 
images  which  he  had  received  and  arranged  in  a 
harmonious  order.  With  these  he  lit  up  the  sub- 
jects of  his  speech,  flashing  upon  obstruse  points  the 
ray  of  an  illustration,  and  that  with  a  fullness  of 
apt  words,  and  with,  at  the  same  time,  a  reticence 
which  kept  the  point  clear.  He  united  in  a  rare 
combination  imaginative  with  dialectic  power.  He 
felt  a  truth  before  he  proved  it;  but  this  felt,  then 
his  lo;^;ical  power  came  into  play.  He  disentangled 
it   from   the   crowd   of   images    and   thoughts   that 

263 


NINE   GREAT  PREACHERS 

clustered  round  it.  He  exercised  a  serene  choice 
over  this  crowd,  and  rejected  what  was  supera- 
bundant. There  was  no  confusion  in  his  mind. 
Step  by  step  he  led  his  hearers,  till  at  last  he  placed 
them  on  the  summit  whence  they  could  see  all  the 
landscape  of  his  subject  in  harmonious  and  con- 
nected order.  He  clothed  in  fresh  brightness  the 
truths  which,  because  their  garments  were  worn 
out,  men  had  ignorantly  imagined  to  be  exhausted. 
He  drew  out  the  living  inspiration  of  the  Bible." 

To  his  bishop  he  gave  the  following  account  of 
his  mode  of  preparing  his  sermons:  "The  word 
extempore  does  not  exactly  describe  the  way  I  preach. 
I  first  make  copious  notes;  then  draw  out  a  form 
(rough  plan);  afterwards  write  copiously,  some- 
times twice  or  thrice,  the  thoughts,  to  disentangle 
them  and  arrange  them  into  a  connected  whole; 
then  make  a  syllabus,  and,  lastly,  a  skeleton  which 
I  take  into  the  pulpit." 

The  sermons  thus  carefully  premeditated  and 
prepared  for  delivery  are,  in  the  words  of  an  intelli- 
gent judge:  "The  bloom  and  wonder  of  modern 
pulpit  eloquence.  They  are  charged  so  abundantly 
with  arrows  of  lightning  to  flash  home  conviction 
on  the  conscience;  they  indicate  such  intense  pro- 
phetic earnestness;  they  contain  such  fearless 
denunciations  of  evil,  in  high  places  and  in  low;  they 
manifest  such  sympathy  on  the  part  of  their  author 
with  the  lowly,  the  hard  working,  the  suffering  and 
the  poor;  they  display  such  a  mastery  of  the  latest 
European  thought,  so  profound  an  acquaintance 
with  both  the  letter  and  the  spirit  of  the  Scriptures, 

264 


FREDERICK  W.  ROBERTSON 

as  of  the  innermost  secrets  of  the  life  which  is  *hid 
in  God,' — its  sorrows,  its  battling  with  doubts,  its 
triumph  through  clinging  to  the  cross  of  Christ; 
they  disclose  a  creative  ability  to  turn  truisms  into 
living  truths,  or  to  convert  the  dry  bones  of  orthodox 
assertions  into  vital  influences  for  the  daily  life,  such 
a  grasp  of  great  spiritual  and  historical  principles, 
such  a  power  to  sever  the  essential  from  the  acci- 
dental in  the  discussion  of  questions  of  Christian 
casuistry,  such  wisdom  and  liberality  in  the  treat- 
ment of  subjects  like  that  of  the  Sabbath,  that 
Robertson  must  be  pronounced,  of  all  later  Christian 
public  speakers,  facile  princeps.''^ 

A  wonderful  thing  about  Robertson's  sermons, 
as  we  have  remarked  of  those  of  some  others,  is 
that  they  have  not  lost  their  interest  and  charm 
because  preached  more  than  half  a  century  ago. 
They  are  not  stale  and  juiceless;  they  are  inspiring 
and  spiritually  profitable  still  as  the  sermons  of  only 
the  greatest  preachers  are,  like  those  of  Chrysostom, 
Cardinal  Newman,  Beecher  and  Brooks,  and  they 
form  a  rich  part  of  our  literature. 

His  pulpit  ministrations  and  his  preaching  are 
thus  described  by  persons  who  heard  him:  "I  have 
never  heard  the  liturgy  read  as  Mr.  Robertson  read 
it.  He  carried  its  own  spirit  with  him,  and  those 
prayers,  so  often  degraded  by  careless  reading  into 
mere  forms,  were,  from  his  voice,  felt  to  be  instinct 
with  a  divine  light  and  spirit.  The  grave  earnest- 
ness and  well-weighed  emphasis  with  which  he  read 
the  Gospel  of  the  day  were  absolutely  an  exposition 
of  its  meaning." 

265 


NINE   GREAT  PREACHERS 

In  preaching,  "so  entirely  was  his  heart  in  his 
words  that  he  lost  sight  of  everything  but  his  subject. 
He  not  only  possessed,  but  was  possessed  by  his 
idea;  and  when  all  was  over  and  the  reaction  came, 
he  had  forgotten,  like  a  dream,  words,  illustrations, 
almost  everything.  <^  But  though  he  was  carried 
away  by  his  subject^  he  was  sufficiently  lord  over  his 
own  excitement  to  prevent  any  loud  or  unseemly 
demonstration  of  it.  His  gesture  was  subdued. 
His  voice,  a  musical,  low,  clear,  penetrative  voice, 
seldom  rose;  and  when  it  did,  it  was  in  a  deep 
volume  of  sound  which  was  not  loud,  but  toned 
like  a  great  bell.  It  thrilled,  but  not  so  much 
from  feeling  as  from  the  repression  of  feeling,  and 
his  face  glowed  as  alabaster  glows  when  lit  up  by 
an  inward  fire.^  And,  indeed,  brain  and  heart  were 
on  fire.  He  was  being  self -consumed.  Every  ser- 
mon in  those  latter  days  burnt  up  a  portion  of  his 
vital  power." 

His  congregation  was  often  enthralled,  as  by  a 
spell,  by  his  preaching.  One  of  his  constant  hearers 
says:  "I  cannot  describe  in  words  the  strange  sensa- 
tion, during  his  sermon,  of  union  with  him  and 
communion  with  one  another  which  filled  us  as  he 
spoke.  I  used  to  feel  as  if  every  one  in  the  con- 
gregation must  be  thrilling  with  my  emotion,  and 
that  his  suppressed  excitement  was  partly  due  to  his 
consciousness  of  our  excitement.  Nor  can  I  describe 
the  sense  we  had  of  a  higher  Presence  with  us  as  he 
spoke,  the  sacred  awe  which  filled  our  hearts,  the 
hushed  stillness  in  which  the  smallest  sound  was 
startling,  the  calmed  eagerness  of  men  who  listened 

266 


FREDERICK  W.  ROBERTSON 

as  if  waiting  for  a  word  of  revelation  to  resolve  the 
doubt  or  to  heal  the  sorrow  of  a  life,  the  unexpected 
light  which  came  upon  the  faces  of  some  when  an  ex- 
pression struck  home  and  made  them  feel,  in  a 
moment  of  high  relief  from  pain  or  doubt,  'this  man 
speaks  to  me  and  his  words  are  inspired  by  God,'  and 
w^hen  the  close  came  and  silence  almost  awful  fell 
upon  the  church,  even  after  a  sigh  of  relief  from 
strained  attention  had  ceased  to  come  from  all  the 
congregation,  I  have  often  seen  men  so  rapt  that 
they  could  not  move  till  the  sound  of  the  organ 
aroused  them  to  the  certainty  that  the  preacher  had 
ceased  to  speak." 

Such  witchery  of  speech,  with  its  entrancing 
power,  is  a  mark  of  the  highest  pulpit  eloquence. 

It  is  evident  from  these  testimonies  and  a  study  of 
his  sermons,  that  Robertson  possessed  to  a  remark- 
able degree  the  personal  qualities  of  intensity  of 
feeling,  sensitiveness  to  the  power  of  truth,  and  a 
receptive  soul,  responsive  not  only  to  truth's  appeal 
but  to  the  events  and  questions  of  the  time.  "His 
heart,"  says  his  biographer,  "throbbed  in  response 
to  the  music  of  the  march  of  the  world,  always  to 
him  a  martial  music.  He  spoke  and  thought  best 
when  great  events  encompassed  him." 

At  the  same  time  he  was  not  hurried  away  by  a 
hasty  impulse;  he  was  self -res  trained  and  cautious. 
"Before  he  gave  a  public  opinion  on  any  subject,  he 
studied  it  with  care.  He  did  not  argue  blindly  on 
the  outside,  but  sought  to  attain  the  central  point 
of  a  question.  But  having  come  in  this  way  to  his 
opinion,  he  was  bold  to  avow  it.     He  was  loyal  to 

267 


NINE   GREAT  PREACHERS 

God  and  his  truth,  though  he  might  suffer  reproach 
and  ostracism  because  of  it." 

The  conditions  under  which  his  ministry  was 
exercised  were  pecuHar  and  need  to  be  considered,  if 
we  would  clearly  understand  and  appreciate  this 
man's  career  and  character. 

(a)     The   External   Contemporary   Conditions 
OF  THE  Times 

1.  It  was  a  time  of  transition  in  theology.  Through 
the  influence  of  German  philosophy  and  Bible 
criticism,  translated  into  English  and  interpreted 
by  Coleridge  and  Carlyle  and  the  Oxford  scholars, 
the  old  doctrinal  statements  and  theories  were 
being  questioned  and  discredited,  and  new  theories 
and  statements  sought  for  and  attempted.  At 
such  times  there  is  usually  much  disquietude  and 
alarm,  and  the  religious  world  is  divided  between 
the  liberals,  who  welcome  inquiry  and  encourage 
discussion  of  the  various  points  at  issue  in  the  belief 
that  truth  will  be  the  gainer,  and  the  conservatives, 
who  would  stifle  inquiry  and  repress  discussion,  for 
fear  that  the  truth  will  be  the  loser  through  decay 
of  faith  consequent  upon  the  shock  that  is  given  to 
the  popular  mind  concerning  fundamental  doctrines 
whose  interpretation  is  changed  and  credibility 
thus  shaken.  Robertson,  having  passed  through 
the  crisis  involved  in  this  transition  during  the 
latter  part  of  his  stay  at  Cheltenham  and  the  time 
of  his  visit  to  the  Tyrol  and  the  weeks  of  sojourn 
spent  afterwards  in  Heidelberg  just  before  going  to 

268 


FREDERICK  W.  ROBERTSON 

Brighton,  and  believing  then  that  his  own  feet  were 
planted  on  solid  ground,  which  it  would  be  in  the 
interest  of  Christian  truth  and  human  happiness  to 
disclose,  he  with  characteristic  courage  straightway 
proclaimed  his  new  views.  *'Thus,"  we  are  told 
*' within  the  short  space  of  six  months  he  put  himself 
into  opposition  with  the  whole  accredited  theological 
world  of  Brighton  on  the  questions  of  the  Sabbath, 
the  Atonement,  Inspiration  and  Baptism.  He  was 
not  one  who  held  what  are  called  liberal  opinions 
in  the  study,  but  would  not  bring  them  into  the 
pulpit.  He  w^ould  not  waver  between  truth  to 
himself  and  success  in  the  world.  He  was  offered 
advancement  in  the  Church,  if  he  would  abate  the 
strength  of  his  expressions  with  regard  to  the  Sab- 
bath. He  refused  the  proffer.  Far  beyond  all  other 
perils  which  beset  the  Church,  was,  he  thought,  this 
peril,  that  men,  who  were  set  apart  to  speak  the 
truth  and  to  live  above  the  world,  should  substitute 
conventional  opinions  for  eternal  truths.  He  re- 
spected his  own  conscience,  believed  in  his  own 
native  force  and  in  the  divine  fire  within  him.  He 
endeavored  to  receive,  without  the  intervention  of 
commentators,  immediate  impressions  from  '  the 
Bible.  To  these  impressions  he  added  the  indi- 
vidual life  of  his  own  heart  and  his  knowledge  of 
the  life  of  the  great  world." 

2.  //  was  a  time  of  transition  in  politics.  It  was 
the  time  of  the  volcanic  outburst  of  February,  1848, 
in  Paris,  when  Lamartine  proclaimed  a  republic  in 
France,  and  the  cry  of  "Liberty,"  ""Equality,"  and 
"Fraternity"  reached  across  the  English    Channel, 

269 


NINE   GREAT  PREACHERS 

and  the  demands  involved  in  this  outcry  were  being 
eagerly  discussed  in  England;  the  time  of  the  Chart- 
ist Movement  and  Kingsley's  "Alton  Lock"  and 
"Yeast";  the  time  of  Cobden's  agitation  for  the 
abolishment  of  the  oppressive  Corn  Laws,  and  the 
establishment  of  the  principle  of  Free  Trade.  Rob- 
ertson's spirit  shared  the  hopes  of  the  English  com- 
mon people.  He  rejoiced,  we  are  told,  in  the 
prospective  "downfall  of  old  oppressions,"  and  in 
the  "young  cries  of  Freedom"  thought  he  discerned 
the  sound  of  the  Chariot  of  the  Son  of  Man  coming 
to  vindicate  the  cause  of  the  poor." 

He  was,  however,  by  birth  and  education  an 
aristocrat,  like  Wendell  Phillips,  and,  therefore, 
conservative  in  his  tastes  and  feelings;  but  also, 
like  Phillips,  he  was  by  conviction  and  principle  a 
democrat,  and,  notwithstanding  his  aristocratic 
leanings,  advocated  with  all  his  powers  of  eloquence 
the  cause  of  the  poor  and  oppressed,  and  devoted 
himself  to  their  welfare.  By  so  doing  he  was  de- 
nounced as  a  revolutionist.  He  foresaw  that  this 
would  be  the  case.  He  says:  "It  brings  no  pleasure 
to  a  minister  of  Christ.  It  makes  him  personal 
enemies.  It  is  ruin  to  his  worldly  interests  and, 
worse  than  all  to  a  sensitive  heart,  it  makes  coldness 
where  there  should  be  cordiality.  Yet  through  life 
I  am  ready  to  bear  this."  CHc  "was  not,  however, 
swept  away  into  the  allurmg  current  of  socialism. 
He  systematically  opposed  socialism,  on  economical 
and  Christian  grounds,  as  dangerous  to  the  state 
and  destructive  to  the  liberty  it  professed  to  confer.^ 
His  aristocratic  tastes  made  it  impossible  he  should 

270 


FREDERICK  W.  ROBERTSON 

be  a  radical.  The  result  was  that,  speaking  at  one 
time  like  a  Liberal,  and  at  another  like  a  Conserva- 
tive he  was  misunderstood,  and  reckoned  an  enemy 
by  the  extreme  spirits  of  both  parties."  Conscious 
of  this  discord  in  himself,  he  thought  it  marred  his 
usefulness.  We  think  it  caused  him  much  unhappi- 
ness,  but  made  him  to  a  considerable  extent  the 
reconciler  of  ^parties.  This  belief  is  justified  and 
witnessed  to  by  the  inscription  on  the  monument 
erected  to  his  memory  in  Brighton:  "He  awakened 
the  holiest  feelings  in  poor  and  rich,  in  ignorant  and 
learned;  therefore  is  he  lamented  as  their  guide 
and  comforter  by  many  who  in  the  band  of  brother- 
hood have  erected  this  monument." 

3.  It  was  a  time  of  transition  in  the  style  of  preax^h-^ 
ing.  He  marks  a  new  epoch  in  the  methods  of  the  , 
.  pulpit  and  in  Homiletic  literature.  It  is  the  epoch_  "^ 
\of  textual  analysis  and  interpretation.  PlHTssermons 
are  worthy  oTspecial  study^because  of  the  superior 
method  of  construction  used  in  them.  He  may  be 
said  to  have  revived  the  old  Scotch  manner  of  preach- 
ing; he  introduced  into  England  and  carried  to  a 
great  degree  of  excellence,  the  textual  and  expository 
methods  used  by  Maclaren  and  carried  by  him 
almost  to  perfection.  We  cannot  help  thinking 
that  Maclaren  was  a  careful  student  of  Robertson's 
sermons,  and  adopted  them  as  the  models  upon 
which  he  fashioned  his  own  pulpit  work.  Robert- 
son's preaching  was  textual  preaching  of  the  best 
sort.  In  it  he  adhered  closely  to  the  historic  sense 
of  the  sacred  writers;  aimed  to  know  precisely,  and 
to  convey  to  his  hearers,  their  point  of  view  and  their 

271 


NINE  GREAT  PREACHERS 

intention;    and  to  set  forth  the  full  significance  of 
their  teaching. 

Never  was  there  a  preacher  who  conveyed  to  his 
hearers  a  better  or  truer  idea  of  the  wealth  of  mean- 
ing contained  in  the  Scriptures.  He  had  what  a 
German  theologian  calls  "exegetical  divination" 
and  what  Dr.  Brastow  thinks  may  more  approp- 
riately be  called  "homiletic  divination,"  a  power  of 
insight  into  the  ethical  and  spiritual  suggestions  of 
the  Scriptures.  This  natural  power  of  spiritual 
insight  was  aided  and  strengthened  by  his  careful, 
accurate  scholarship,  and  the  rich  stores  of  informa- 
tion garnered  in  his  general  reading.  Everything 
in  him,  his  imagination,  his  vigorous  reasoning 
faculties,  his  opulant  scholarship,  his  vivid  appre- 
hension of  Christ,  his  personal  experience  of  Christian 
truth,  which  vitalized  his  whole  being,  contributed 

to  the  Biblical  suggestiveness  of  his  sermons. 

« 

(b)     Personal  Conditions 

1.  Broken  health.  He  performed  his  remarkable 
work  in  Brighton  handicapped  by  poor  health. 
His  health  was  incurably  shattered  by  his  hard  work 
at  Cheltenham,  by  his  neglect  of  needed  exercise, 
and  by  the  mental  and  spiritual  distress  caused  by 
his  loss  of  faith  in,  and  his  breaking  away  from,  the 
traditional  school  of  theology.  He  thus  speaks  of 
himself  just  before  entering  on  his  work  at  Brighton: 
"I  have  been  very  unwell,  thoroughly  done  up, 
mentally  and  bodily."  Though  he  could  say  that, 
by  reason  of  the  mountain  air  and  hard  exercise 

272 


FREDERICK  W.  ROBERTSON 

found  in  the  Tyrol,  he  had  "got  back  something 
Hke  calmness  and  health  again,"  he  never  really 
recovered.  He  remained  to  the  end  of  his  days, 
through  all  those  six  years  in  Brighton,  a  sorely 
shattered  man.  He  had  been  there  scarcely  six 
months  when  he  wrote  to  a  friend:  *Tn  outward  suc- 
cess all  looks  well;  consequently  I  work  in  good 
spirits.  But  Sunday  night,  Monday,  and  all  Tues- 
day are  days  of  wretched  exhaustion,  actual  nervous 
pain."  "The  excitement  is  killing.  I  begin  to  fear 
I  shall  never  keep  it  up."  "Brighton  air  is  wonderful, 
but  even  that  fails."  In  vain  he  tried  to  allay  and 
subdue  this  killing  excitability  by  giving  more 
attention  to  exercise,  and  by  placing  himself  under 
the  healing  influence  of  Nature,  by  walking  along 
the  edge  of  the  cliffs  by  the  sea  and  sitting  down 
where  he  could  command  a  full  view  of  sea  and  sky, 
to  soothe  and  cure  the  fever  of  his  heart.  He  could 
not  get  rid  of  it.  It  grew  worse  and  worse.  The 
reaction  from  preaching  left  him  sleepless,  despond- 
ent, wretched. 

2.  A  Chronic  Morbid  Condition  of  Mind.  The 
wonder  is  that  his  mind  was  not  paralyzed  or  other- 
wise made  incapable  of  work  by  his  excitability. 
But  it  seemed  to  give  him  a  preternatural  power  of 
thought  and  mental  achievement.  Some  of  his 
finest  sermons  w^ere  thought  out  when  distress,  it 
might  be  supposed,  "only  gave  him  leave  to  feel." 
He  could  concentrate  his  mind,  however,  upon  his 
work  in  the  wildest  hours  of  nervous  excitement, 
and  the  pain  which  racked  his  body  and  sensitive 
soul  like  a  spur  to  his  genius  made  him  most  crea- 

18  273 


NINE   GREAT  PREACHERS 

live.  In  these  states  of  excitement  he  was  most 
brilliant  and  his  most  startling  eloquence  was  pro- 
duced. 

He  might,  perhaps,  have  recovered,  had  he  been 
willing  to  favor  himself;  had  he  demanded,  when  he 
found  himself  breaking  down,  a  long  release  from 
his  work;  or  if,  while  continuing  in  the  harness,  he 
had  worked  with  moderation.  But  his  vacations 
were  short,  either  from  imagined  necessity,  or  choice. 
He  never  took  more  than  a  few  weeks,  when,  as  he 
himself  confessed,  he  was  not  fit  for  ministerial  w^ork 
and  needed  a  protracted  release  from  it.  "I  want 
years  and  years  to  calm  me,"  he  said,  "My  heart  is 
too  feverish — quivers  and  throbs  as  flesh  recently 
cut  by  the  surgeon's  knife." 

In  this  invalid  state  of  shattered  nerves,  tortured 
body,  and  mental  feverishness,  he  ought  to  have 
avoided  every  unnecessary  draft  upon  his  energies, 
and  resolutely  declined  those  extra  burdens  which 
regard  for  thoughtless  friendship  or  the  desire  to  do 
good  prompted  him  to  undertake.  Had  his  friends 
and  admirers  understood  his  case,  how  much  he 
needed  rest,  and  how  fatal  every  added  task  would 
prove,  they  would  never  have  wished  him  to  per- 
form for  them  those  acts  of  service  which  ultimately 
cost  him  and  them  so  dear.  But  they  did  not 
understand,  and  he  would  not  tell  them,  and  so  in 
the  very  time  he  was  suffering  from  those  dreadful 
reactions  from  preaching,  he  performed  tasks  that 
were  destroying  his  chance  to  live  and  hurrying 
him  to  his  grave.  He  wrote  long  letters  to  explain 
to  inquirers  the  religious  subjects  he  had  discussed, 

274 


FREDERICK  W.  ROBERTSON 

but  had  not  made  quite  clear  in  his  sermons;  he 
prepared  Hterary  lectures  for  the  instruction  or 
financial  profit  of  the  Working  Men's  Institute;  he 
served  on  committees  charged  with  framing  the 
policy  of  the  Institute,  and  he  was  their  adviser 
when  critical  questions  arose  for  their  consideration. 
He  projected  courses  of  expository  lectures  upon 
different  books  of  the  Scriptures,  which  required 
much  special  study  in  preparation,  gave  extra  time 
and  labor  in  preparing  a  special  Training  Class  of 
the  Church  for  Confirmation  and  Church  Member- 
ship; and,  strangest  of  all,  on  Sunday  evening,  when 
spent  and  weary  with  the  day's  preaching,  he  wrote 
out  for  a  friend  from  memory  the  sermons  of  Sunday 
morning.  "It  was  peculiarly  irksome  to  him,"  his 
biographer  says,  "but  he  did  it  freely  and  gladly 
because  impelled  by  friendship.  He  forgot  the 
toil,  but  the  toil  did  not  forget  to  produce  its  fruit 
of  exhaustion." 

The  world  has  profited  by  that  sacrifice  of  friend- 
ship. Those  sermons  thus  reported,  are  most  of  v^ 
them  published  as  he  wrote  them,  in  the  volumes  \ 
that  were  given  to  the  world  after  his  death,  and 
which  created  for  him  the  world-wide  fame  as  a 
preacher  he  had  not  till  then  attained;  but  the  pos- 
session of  this  treasure,  secured  at  such  cost,  is 
associated  in  us  with  a  feeling  of  pain  at  the  thought 
of  the  cruelty  involved  in  lashing  that  jaded  over- 
worked spirit  to  the  task.  Not  even  our  gratitude, 
nor  the  fam^e  which  thus  accrued  to  him,  can  make 
that  sacrifice  seem  right  or  an  adequate  compensa- 
tion for  the  misery  it  cost  him. 

275 


NINE   GREAT  PREACHERS 

There  is  another  thing  he  ought  to  have  done.  He 
should  have  lived  more  in  the  society  of  friends  and 
his  fellow  men,  instead  of  secluding  himself  from 
them.  But  he  yielded  to  the  isolating  influences 
which  one  feels  who  is  greatly  misunderstood,  mis- 
represented, disapproved  of,  and  censured  for  deviat- 
ing from  the  beaten  track  of  opinion,  and  for  advo- 
cating opinions  that  are  new  and  supposed  to  be 
dangerous.  His  sensitive  soul  smarted  under  the 
harsh  judgments  pronounced  against  him  as  a 
teacher  of  error  and  a  friend  of  socialists,  and  he 
withdrew  more  and  more  from  society.  This  made 
him  suspicious  and  lonely  and  a  sufferer  of  the  ills 
that  visit  a  life  of  solitude.  Instead  of  the  strength 
and  inspiration  of  Christian  fellowship,  he  experi- 
enced the  weakness  and  the  depression  of  mind 
consequent  upon  the  feeling  of  being  deserted.  The 
wonder  is  that  this  morbid  conditon  did  not  more 
infect  his  sermons  with  gloom.  In  them  there  is 
not  much  trace  of  it;  his  genuine  piety  preserved 
them  from  it,  but  in  his  letters  it  breathes  a  sadness 
and  gloom  which  are  painful.  It  is  no  wonder  that 
his  body  and  mind  could  not  endure  long  the  oppres- 
sion of  it;  that  he  died  prematurely  in  the  middle 
of  his  thirty-eighth  year,  his  death  being  preceded 
by  symptoms  of  distress  and  breakdown  most 
pathetic.  "Somehow,"  he  says  in  the  last  year  of 
his  life,  'T  cannot  originate  thoughts  and  subjects 
now,  as  I  used."  "I  shall  not  be  able  to  go  on  much 
longer  if  this  continues;  whole  tracts  of  brain  seem 
to  be  losing  their  faculty  and  becoming  quite  torpid 
and  impotent;    memory  and  grasp  are  both  going, 

276 


FREDERICK  W.  ROBERTSON 

and  with  an  incessant  call  for  fresh  thought,  this 
feeling  is  a  more  than  ordinarily  painful  one."  These 
and  other  tokens  of  mental  failure  that  might  be 
gathered  from  his  letters  remind  us  of  Luther's 
remark  concerning  his  mind  when  it  had  begun 
through  the  long  wear  of  theological  conflict  and 
ceaseless  toil  to  lose  its  power:  "It  is  like  an  old 
knife,  the  steel  edge  of  which  has  been  all  worn 
away  from  much  and  constant  whetting." 

More  pathetic  even  than  these  signs  of  creeping 
mental  paralysis  was  his  discouragement  and  depres- 
sion of  heart  under  the  impression  that  his  ministry 
was  a  failure.  For  this  he  himself  was  partly,  if  not 
entirely,  to  blame,  on  account  of  his  manifested 
repugnance  to  hearing,  or  receiving  any  commenda- 
tion of  his  preaching,  through  which  he  might  have 
learned  how  much  it  helped  and  benefited  his 
hearers.  "If,"  says  his  biographer,  "he  hated  one 
thing  more  than  another  it  was  the  reputation  of 
being  a  popular  preacher."  So  he  coldly  repelled 
the  grateful  thanks  of  his  hearers  for  the  benefit 
they  had  received,  as  if  they  were  empty  compli- 
ments, fulsome  flattery,  which,  as  imputing  to 
him  a  childish  vanity,  no  self-respecting  preacher 
can  bear  to  listen  to.  Such  applg^use  galled  and 
stung  him  into  galling  words,  and  few  cared  to 
provoke  such  an  answer  a  second  time.  Thus 
repelling  and  hushing  the  voices  of  praise  with  which 
his  friends  and  hearers  longed  to  express  their  gratifi- 
cation and  gratitude  for  his  sermons,  he  was  wil- 
fully blind  to  the  unmistakable  good  they  had 
wrought.     We  wish  that  the  sadness  which  oppressed 

277 


NINE  GREAT  PREACHERS 

his  heart  could  have  been  brightened  by  some  pro- 
phetic foresight  of  the  marvelous  appreciation  and 
world-wide  enthusiasm  those  sermons  were  to  pro- 
duce when  published  after  his  death  and  the  world 
enjoyed  the  benefit  of  his  ministry.  Dr.  Brastow 
truly  says:  "He  did  not  know  how  well  he  wrought. 
He  did  not  know  the  full  import,  reach,  or  measure 
of  his  prophetic  utterance.  H6  did  not  know  how 
deeply  he  spoke  into  the  lives  of  men.  Never  was 
man  more  unconscious  of  what  he  was  doing  for 
others,  for  the  Church,  for  the  world.  It  was  in 
much  a  sad  history,  but  most  precious  for  the  multi- 
tudes of  needy  men  whom  he  has  helped.  More 
fully  than  any  other  English  preacher  of  his  century 
has  he  spoken  the  true  prophetic  word  for  hungry 
and  disquieted  human  hearts."  (Brastow's  "Modern 
Representative  preachers.") 

It  ought  further  to  be  said  that  like  all  preachers 
who  "have  spoken  the  true  prophetic  word,"  Robert- 
son was  more  than  an  eloquent  preacher.  He  was 
a  seer;  he  possessed  the  spiritual  insight  and  the 
religious  feeling  which  qualified  him  to  be  a  pioneer 
in  a  new  advanced  age  of  theological  teaching.  Like 
Horace  Bushnell  and  the  two  Beechers,  besides  the 
admirable  sermons  he  and  they  gave  to  us,  he  is  to 
be  credited' with  the  wholesome  "modernism"  that 
has  characterized  the  Protestantism  of  this  age  as 
well  as  the  Roman  Catholicism,  and  which  signifies 
the  change  in  the  religious  ideas  and  spiritual  appre- 
hension of  Christianity  and  its  interpretation  due 
to  the  fresh  and  more  scholarly  study  of  the  Scrip- 
tures and  the  new  light  shed  upon  them  by  the 

278 


FREDERICK  W.  ROBERTSON 

development  of  modern  science  and  the  new  psy- 
chology of  today.  The  Christianity  of  our  times  is 
more  practical  than  speculative;  it  emphasizes  the 
ethical  side  of  the  religious  life,  and  the  importance 
of  the  ethical  precepts  of  the  New  Testament,  and 
of  the  example  and  spirit  of  Christ  as  matters  of 
far  more  concern  to  Christians  than  the  definitions 
and  dogmas  of  theology  which  in  times  past  have  so 
much  exercised  the  mind  and  interest  of  the  Church. 
This  shifting  of  emphasis,  unmistakable  in  the 
thought  of  these  times,  and  wholesome  as  most 
men  think,  is  largely  due  to  Robertson  and  other 
preachers  of  "the  true  prophetic  word."  As  the 
Old  Testament  prophets,  Isaiah,  Amos,  Hosea  and 
others,  saved  ancient  Judaism  from  the  growing 
narrowness  and  false  interpretations  of  the  Scribes 
and  Pharisees  which  were  tending  to  falsify  it  as 
the  truth  of  God,  so  Robertson  and  his  successors 
in  the  same  line  have  saved  Christianity  from  errors 
of  doctrine  and  practice  that  were  tending  to  stifle 
its  spiritual  life  and  discredit  it  in  the  eyes  of  the 
world. 


279 


VIII 
ALEXANDER  McLAREN 


vin 

ALEXANDER  McLAREN 
1826-1001     "  lO 

Dr.  McLaren  is  one  of  the  greatest  and  most 
interesting  preachers  of  the  last  century.  The  re- 
cent biography  by  his  sister-in-law,  published  by 
Hodder  and  Stoughton,  gives  us  an  interesting  and 
seemingly  just  account  of  his  life  and  personal  char- 
acter, which  is  both  trustworthy  and  complete.  "In 
this  book,"  the  author  says  in  the  preface,  "Dr. 
McLaren's  name  is  spelt  as  he  signed  it,  not  Maclaren 
as  in  his  published  works." 

From  the  materials  furnished  by  this  biography 
we  derive  the  particulars  in  regard  to  the  subject 
of  our  sketch.  He  was  born  in  Glasgow,  Febru- 
ary 11,  1826.  He  was  the  son  of  David  and  Mary 
McLaren,  and  the  youngest  child  in  their  family 
of  six.  His  parents  were  Christian  people  of  the 
Puritan  type.  His  father,  David  McLaren,  was  a 
business  man  but  "eagerly  devoted  his  leisure  hours 
to  Christian  work" — especially  to  preaching  the 
gospel.  "He  had  many  business  anxieties,"  his 
son  says,  "but  his  children  remember  to  have  heard 
him  say  that  when  he  began  his  preparation  for 
Sabbath  on  the  Saturday  afternoon,  all  his  troubles 
passed  from  his  mind,  and  left  him  undisturbed 
till  Monday  morning,  when  the  fight  was  renewed." 

283 


NINE  GREAT  PREACHERS 

"His  ministry,"  his  son  adds,  "was  marked  by  much 
intellectual  vigor  and  clearness.  It  was  richly  script- 
ural, expository,  and  withal,  earnestly  evangelistic. 
Its  key-note  was:  'That  which  we  have  seen  with 
our  eyes — and  our  hands  have  handled  of  the 
word  of  life — we  declare  unto  you.'  His  children 
set  on  his  tombstone  the  two  words  *  steadfast, 
unmoveable. 

The  father,  like  his  son,  was  a  Baptist,  and  Alex- 
ander inherited  from  him,  besides  this  denomina- 
tional bias,  mental  and  spiritual  traits. 

The  mother,  Mary  Wingate,  was  a  person,  "whose 
patient  fortitude,  calm  wisdom  and  changeless  love 
were  her  husband's  treasure  for  many  years  of 
mingled  sunshine  and  storm,"  and  left  a  memory 
"fragrant  to  her  children." 

Alexander  went  through  the  course  of  the  High 
school  of  Glasgow,  and  entered  its  University  in 
his  fifteenth  year,  but  he  continued  there  only  a 
year  because  of  the  removal  of  his  family  to  London. 
In  that  one  year,  however,  he  distinguished  him- 
self by  his  superior  scholarship,  so  that  at  its  close 
he  received  several  prizes.  "He  remembered  all 
his  life,"  we  are  told,  "that  prize  giving.  He  was 
seated  far  back,  and  the  first  time  his  name  was 
called  he  had  to  be  waited  for,  so  the  Master  re- 
marked to  the  Lord  Provost  who  presided,  'This 
young  gentleman  has  to  appear  so  often  that  he 
had  better  be  accommodated  with  a  seat  nearer  the 
table.'" 

Cambridge  and  Oxford  in  those  days  were  not 
open  to  Non-conformists,  so  after  examination,  he 

284 


ALEXANDER  McLAREN 

entered,  in  1842,  the  Baptist  College  at  Stepney, 
now  transplanted  to  Regent  Park,  London.  The 
committee  before  whom  he  appeared  were  struck 
with  his  boyish  appearance  and  also  with  the  ex- 
cellence of  his  examination  papers. 

The  principal  of  Stepney  College  at  that  time 
was  Dr.  Benjamin  Davis.  To  him  Alexander 
McLaren  "owed  his  lifelong  habit  of  patient,  minute 
study  of  the  original,  not  only  in  the  preparation  of 
sermons,  but  in  his  daily  reading  of  Scriptures  for 
his  own  spiritual  life." 

It  is  proper  that  here  we  should  speak  of  the 
conscious  beginning  and  development  of  his  relig- 
ious life.  Of  course,  being  the  child  of  such  Chris- 
tian parents,  he  was  the  subject  of  early  religious 
impressions,  but  these  did  not  crystallize  into  defi- 
nite shape  until,  in  those  years  of  his  boyhood,  he 
joined  a  Bible  class  taught  by  the  Rev.  David 
Russell,  a  Congregational  minister  and  afterward 
his  brother-in-law.  In  connection  with  this  Bible 
class  Mr.  Russell  held  some  revival  meetings  which 
he  attended  with  the  result  that,  "to  him,  under 
God,"  Dr.  McLaren  said  in  his  old  age,  "I  owe  the 
quickening  of  early  religious  impressions  into  loving 
faith  and  surrender,  and  to  him  I  owe  also  much 
wise  and  affectionate  counsel  in  my  boyish  years." 
He  joined  the  Hope  St.  Baptist  Church,  Glasgow, 
when  fourteen  years  of  age,  and  when,  two  or  three 
years  later,  he  entered  the  Baptist  College  at  Stepney 
with  its  theological  course  of  study,  it  was  with 
the  purpose  of  preparing  himself  for  the  ministry. 
Shortly  before  his  death,  he  said:  "I  cannot  recall 

285 


NINE  GREAT  PREACHERS 

ever  having  had  any  hesitation  as  to  being  a  minister; 
it  seems  to  me  it  must  have  been  simply  taken  for 
granted  by  my  father  and  mother  and  myself;  it 
just  had  to  be." 

Before  he  had  completed  his  twentieth  year,  he 
was  sent  by  the  authorities  of  Stepney  College 
to  preach  one  Sunday,  November  16,  1845,  at 
Portland  Chapel,  Southampton.  His  preaching 
gave  such  satisfaction  that  he  was  invited  to 
preach  there  three  months.  The  trial  resulted  in 
a  call  by  the  church  to  be  its  pastor.  The  place 
was  not  very  inviting — the  congregation  was  small 
and  the  salary  meagre,  and  the  chapel  had  a 
past  history  that  was  clouded  with  failure.  But 
he  accepted  the  call  notwithstanding,  saying:  "If 
the  worse  comes  to  the  worst,  I  shall  at  all 
events  not  have  to  reflect  that  I  have  killed  a 
flourishing  plant,  but  only  assisted  at  the  funeral 
of  a  withered  one."  He  began  his  pastorate  there, 
June  28,  1846,  when  he  was  but  little  more  than 
twenty  years  of  age,  and  he  remained  in  it  twelve 
years.  For  ten  of  those  years  he  remained  single, 
working  strenuously  to  build  up  his  "poor  little 
congregation,"  which  gradually  but  steadily  grew 
in  numbers  and  influence.  Later  in  life,  when  he 
had  become  a  famous  preacher  he  said  that  he  was 
"thankful  that  the  early  part  of  his  ministry  had 
been  spent  with  such  a  church  in  a  quiet  corner 
of  England  where  he  had  leisure  to  grow  and  time 
to  think."  "The  trouble  with  most  of  you  young 
fellows,"  he  said  to  a  company  of  young  ministers, 
"is  that  you  are  pitchforked  at  once  into  prominent 

286 


ALEXANDER  McLAREN 

positions  and  have  to  spend  your  time  in  attending 
meetings,  anniversaries,  and  even  breakfasts,  when 
you  ought  to  be  at  home  studying  your  Bible." 

His  conception  of  the  Christian  ministry  was  that 
it  was  preeminently  a  ministry  of  Christian  truth, 
and  he  applied  himself  diligently  to  the  study  of 
the  Christian  Scriptures.  He  studied  them  not 
only  as  presented  in  the  best  English  versions,  but 
in  the  original  Hebrew  and  Greek.  This  was  evi- 
dent from  his  manner  of  reading  the  Scriptures 
in  public  worship,  from  the  emphasis  given  to  the 
significant  words,  from  the  clear  insight  into  their 
real  meaning  revealed  and  the  sympathetic  inter- 
pretation he  gave  of  it  because  of  his  previous  care- 
ful study.  *' Every  day,"  we  are  told,  "he  read 
a  chapter  in  the  Hebrew  Old  Testament  and  one 
in  the  Greek  New  Testament."  He  was  a  careful 
exigete  of  the  Bible  and  on  his  careful  exegesis 
he  based  his  illuminating  expositions  of  its  truth. 
"The  best  lesson,"  says  Dr.  Parkhurst,  "which 
McLaren  teaches  the  preachers  of  today  is  the  neces- 
sity of  direct  and  absorbing  work  upon  the  Bible, 
in  order  to  be  able  to  speak  with  interest  and  power; 
and  that  the  Bible  only  needs  hard,  faithful  study 
to  yield  that  which  will  be  most  fresh,  vivid  and 
interesting  and  helpful  to  our  congregations." 

Those  years  of  his  young  manhood  with  that 
small  Southampton  church  were  formative  years, 
years  determinative  of  his  destiny,  as  the  first  years 
of  a  man's  ministry  usually  are.  In  them  his  habits 
of  study  and  his  methods  of  work  were  formed  and 
perfected;    in   them    his  conceptions  and  ideals  of 

287 


NINE   GREAT  PREACHERS 

ministerial  achievement  were  shaped  and  tested, 
and  in  them  his  powers  of  thought  and  communi- 
cation were  developed  to  a  very  high  degree  of 
excellence.  He  always  endeavored  to  do  his  best. 
He  lavished  upon  that  small  congregation  of  humble 
people  the  best  efforts  of  a  rarely  gifted  mind  and 
earnest  soul.  His  development  and  progress  were 
therefore  constant,  rapid,  remarkable.  The  people 
of  that  early  Southampton  congregation  watched 
his  growth  w^ith  interest,  and  keenly  enjoyed  the 
benefit  of  it.  Appreciating  his  worth,  they  fore- 
cast the  eminence  that  awaited  him  in  the  ministry, 
and  when  he  had  reached  the  meridian  of  his  power 
and  fame  thought  his  preaching  did  not  surpass 
that  of  the  days  when  he  was  their  minister.  His 
preaching  then,  like  Beecher's  early  preaching  in 
Indianapolis,  had  notes  of  eloquence  that  distin- 
guished it  in  the  glorious  maturity  of  his  later 
years. 

From  the  beginning,  his  constant  aim,  persever- 
ingly  adhered  to  and  strenuously  labored  for,  was 
to  perfect  himself  in  the  preacher's  art,  so  as  to 
make  himself  a  successful  preacher  of  the  gospel. 

In  his  ministry,  he  magnified  the  preacher's 
office  and  in  his  practice  exalted  it  above  the  pastoral 
office  and  its  duties.  Not  that  he  underrated  and 
disparaged  pastoral  work;  he  commended  and 
honored  it,  indeed,  in  those  who  were  specially 
fitted  for  it;  but  he  believed,  that  for  himself  preach- 
ing was  his  special  vocation  and  he  endeavored 
to  fulfill  it  to  the  utmost  of  his  ability. 

In  the  fulfillment  of  it  he  adopted  the  following 

288 


ALEXANDER  McLAREN 

method  and  principles  of  action,  in  preparation 
for   the   pulpit: 

"I  began  my  ministry,"  he  says,  "with  the  reso- 
lution that  I  would  not  wTite  my  sermons,  but 
would  think  and  feel  them,  and  I  have  stuck  to  it 
ever  since.  It  costs  quite  as  much  time  in  prepa- 
ration as  wTiting,  and  a  far  greater  expenditure 
of  nervous  energy  in  delivery,  but  I  am  sure  that 
it  is  best  for  me,  and  equally  sure  that  everybody 
has  to  find  out  his  own  way."  He  *'so  saturated  his 
mind  with  his  subject  that  facing  his  congregation, 
looking  into  their  eyes,  his  thoughts  clothed  them- 
selves in  suitable  words." 

But,  as  he  further  explains,  though  he  resolved 
not  to  write  his  sermons,  he  did  not  entirely  dis- 
card the  help  of  the  pen.  "I  write  my  sermons 
in  part,"  he  says.  "The  amount  of  written  matter 
varies.  When  I  can,  I  like  to  write  a  couple  of 
sentences  or  so  of  introduction,  in  order  to  get  a 
fair  start,  and  for  the  rest  I  content  myself  with 
jottings,  fragmentary  hints  of  a  word  or  two  each, 
interspersed  here  and  there  w4th  a  fully  written 
sentence.  Illustrations  and  metaphors  I  never 
WTite;  a  word  suffices  for  them.  If  I  have  heads,  I 
word  these  carefully  and  I  like  to  write  the  closing 
sentences.  I  do  not  adhere  to  w^hat  is  written, 
as  there  is  very  little  of  it  that  is  sufficiently  con- 
secutive. I  make  no  attemp)t  to  reproduce  more 
than  the  general  course  of  thought  and  constantly 
find  that  the  best  bits  of  my  sermon  make  them- 
selves in  preaching.  I  do  adhere  to  my  introductory 
sentences,  which  serve  to  shove  me  off  into  deep 

19  289 


NINE   GREAT  PREACHERS 

water;  beyond  that  I  let  the  moment  shape  the  thing. 
Expressions  I  do  not  prepare;  if  I  can  get  the  fire 
ahght,  that  is  what  I  care  for  most."  "This  is 
my  ideal,"  he  says  of  the  method  thus  sketched. 
"A  sufficiently  scrappy  one  you  will  think,  but  I 
am  frequently  obliged  to  preach  with  much  less 
preparation.  The  amount  written  varies  from  about 
six  or  seven  pages  of  ordinary  note-paper  to  the 
barest  skeleton  that  would  go  in  half  a  page." 

If  we  had  only  this  sketch  to  judge  by,  we  might 
fairly  think  him  a  careless  workman.  It  seems  to 
indicate  that  he  left  much  to  chance  and  the  hope 
of  a  happy  inspiration  at  the  time  of  preaching, 
instead  of  guarding  by  the  most  careful  preparation 
against  the  possibility  of  failure.  But  we  should 
make  a  great  mistake  if  we  should  form  such  an 
opinion  of  him  or  of  his  work.  His  seeming  care- 
lessness is  that  of  conscious  mastery  of  the  condi- 
tions of  success.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  he  left  little 
to  chance;  his  preparation  for  preaching  was  so 
thorough  and  painstaking  that  there  was  only  the 
smallest  possibility  of  failure.  Though  he  did  not 
write  out  his  sermons,  though  his  preparation  seemed 
limited  to  the  making  of  a  meagre  outline,  his  pre- 
vision of  their  contents  was  usually  clear  and  cer- 
tain. He  knew  exactly  what  he  wanted  to  say, 
though  the  precise  language  in  which  he  was  to 
express  his  thought  was  not  previously  settled  upon 
and  fixed  in  writing.  He  secured  this  unerring 
certainty  of  thought  and  expression  by  the  unwearied 
patience  and  unstinted  labor  given  to  the  previous 
study  and  meditation  of  his  themes.     He  thus  ac- 

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ALEXANDER  McLAREN 

quired  an  opulent  mind,  which  never  lacked  good 
things  to  say,  nor  words,  tJie  right  words,  to  express 
them. 

In  his  preparation  for  the  pulpit  he  observed 
the  following  principles,  which  are  gathered  from 
the  interesting  and  instructive  address,  entitled 
**An  Old  Preacher  on  Preaching"  delivered  in  1901 
at  the  City  Temple  in  London  at  a  joint  meeting 
of  the  Baptist  and  Congregational  Unions.  The 
principles  enumerated  shaped  his  preaching  through 
all  his  ministry. 

(1)  Deference  to  the  teaching  of  God's  word  and 
submission  of  mind  to  it  as  containing  the  truth  which 
the  Christian  minister  is  summoned  to  proclaim. 
"This  teaching  of  God  is  found  in  the  Bible,"  and 
makes  its  study  supremely  important .  "A  preacher, ' ' 
he  says,  "who  has  steeped  himself  in  the  Bible 
will  have  a  clearness  of  out-look  which  will  illu- 
minate many  dark  things,  and  a  firmness  of  touch 
which  will  breed  confidence  in  him  among  his  hearers. 
He  will  have  the  secret  of  perpetual  freshness,  for 
he  cannot  exhaust  the  Bible."  "Our  sufficiency  is 
of  God,  and  God's  sufficiency  will  be  ours  in  the 
measure  in  which  w^e  steadfastly  follow  out  the  pur- 
pose of  making  our  preaching  truly  Biblical." 

At  his  Ministerial  Jubilee  he  said  of  his  own  en- 
deavor: "I  have  tried  to  make  my  ministry  a  Minis- 
try of  Exposition  of  Scripture.  I  know  that  it  has 
failed  in  many  respects,  but  I  will  say  that  I  have 
endeavored  from  the  beginning  to  the  end  to  make 
that  the  characteristic  of  all  my  public  work.  I 
have  tried  to  preach  Jesus  Christ,  and  the  Jesus 

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NINE   GREAT  PREACHERS 

Christ  not  of  the  Gospels  only,  but  the  Christ  of 
the  Gospels  and  Epistles;  He  is  the  same  Christ." 

(2)  Every  'preacher  by  independent  study  of  the 
Bible  should  ascertain  for  himself  the  truth  of  God 
to  be  found  in  it.     Dr.   McLaren  condemns  those 

4-  who  *'get  their  opinions"  of  Christian  truth  from 
others  instead  of  forming  them  for  themselves. 
"These  opinions  do  not  grow,  are  not  shaped  by 
patient  labor,  but  are  imported  into  the  new  owner's 
mind,  ready-made  in  Germany  or  elsewhere,  but 
not  in  his  own  workshop."  "We  have  need  to 
remember,"  he  says,  "the  woes  pronounced  on  two 
classes  of  prophets;  'those  who  stole  the  word, 
every  man  from  his  neighbor,  and  those  who  proph- 
esied out  of  their  own  hearts,  having  seen  nothing 
and  heard  no  voice  from  on  high.'  We  have  to 
be  sure  that  we  stand  on  our  own  feet  and  see  with 
our  own  eyes;  and  on  the  other  hand  we  have  to 
see  that  the  Word,  which  is  in  that  sense  our  own, 
is  in  a  deeper  sense  not  our  own  but  God's.  We 
have  to  deal  at  first  hand  with  Him  and  to  suppress 
self  that  He  may  speak." 

(3)  The  habit  of  brooding  over  a  text  or  passage  of 
Scripture  in  a  devout  spirit  to  ascertain  its  teaching  is 
illuminating    and    profitable.     "This    is     sometimes 

^  called  the  'incubation  of  a  text'  and  often  results 
in  rich  and  surprising  disclosures  of  meaning.  As 
one  reads  or  listens,  he  says,  'Yes,  that  was  all  in 
the  text.  Why  had  no  one  discovered  it  before.'^' 
We  need  for  the  prophet's  office  much  secluded  fel- 
lowship with  God,  who  'wakens'  his  servant's  ear 
morning  by  morning  and  gives  him  '  the  tongue  of 


ALEXANDER  McLAREN 

them  that  are  taught.'  No  man  will  ever  be  the 
Lord's  prophet,  however  eloquent  or  learned  he  may 
be,  unless  he  knows  what  it  is  to  sit  silent  before 
God  and  in  the  silence  to  hear  the  still,  small,  most 
mighty  voice  that  penetrates  the  soul,  and  to  the 
hearing  ear  is  sweet  as  harpers  harping  with  their 
harps  and  louder  than  the  noise  of  many  waters." 

His  power  of  productive  thinking  became  at 
length  spontaneous.  The  subject  definitely  fixed 
upon,  whether  of  sermon  or  address,  "  it  goes  simmer- 
ing through  my  head  wherever  I  am." 

At  the  request  of  his  friend.  Prof.  T.  H.  Pattison, 
Professor  of  Homiletics  in  the  Rochester  Theo- 
logical Seminary,  he  wrote  to  the  students  there 
this  word  of  counsel:  "I  sometimes  think  that 
a  verse  in  one  of  the  Psalms  carries  the  whole  pith 
of  homiletics — 'While  I  was  musing  the  fire  burned, 
then  spake  I  with  my  tongue.'  Patient  medita- 
tion, resulting  in  kindled  emotion  and  the  flashing 
up  of  truth  into  w^armth  and  light  CI  must  give 
it  red-hot,'  he  said)  and  then,  and  not  till  then, 
the  rush  of  speech  'moved  by  the  Holy  Ghost' — 
these  are  the  processes  which  will  make  sermons 
live  things  with  hands  and  feet,  as  Luther's  words 
were  said  to  be.  May  I  add  another  text,  which 
contains  as  complete  a  description  of  the  contents 
as  the  psalm  does  of  its  genesis?  'Whom  we  preach' 
there  is  the  evangelistic  element,  which  is  founda- 
tion of  all,  and  is  proclamatioti  with  the  loud  voice, 
the  curt  force,  the  plain  speech  of  a  herald;  and  there 
is,  too,  the  theme,  namely,  the  Person,  not  a  set  of 
doctrines,  but  a  Person  whom  we  can  know  only 

293 


NINE  GREAT  PREACHERS 

by  doctrines,  and  whom,  if  we  know,  we  shall  surely 
have  some  doctrine  concerning.  *  Warning  every 
man' — there  is  the  ethical  side  of  preaching;  and 
*  teaching  every  man' — there  is  the  educational 
aspect  of  the  Christian  ministry.  These  three 
must  never  be  separated,  and  he  is  the  best  minister 
of  Jesus  Christ,  who  keeps  the  proportion  of  them 
most  clearly  in  mind  and  braids  all  the  strands 
together  in  his  ministry  into  a  '  three-fold  cord,  not 
quickly  broken.' 

(4)  The  minister  needs  to  bring  the  truth  thus  found 
to  the  test  of  his  own  experience.  This  was  not  only 
a  fine  theory  with  him,  it  was  confirmed  and  acted 
upon  continually  by  him  in  his  practice.  His 
preaching  was  that  of  a  spiritually-minded  witness 
to  the  truth  he  proclaimed.  *'  I  have  always  found, " 
he  says,  "that  my  own  comfort  and  efficiency  in 
preaching  have  been  in  direct  proportion  to  the 
frequency  and  depth  of  my  daily  communion  with 
God.  'I  have  tried  to  preach  Christ'  as  if  I  be- 
lieved in  him.  The  root  of  all  is  that  we  ourselves 
should  feed  on  the  truth  we  preach  to  others.  The 
preacher  has  need  of  the  personal  element  in  his 
message;  he  has  to  speak  as  one  who  has  felt  the 
rapture  of  the  joyful  news  which  he  proclaims." 

This  principle,  we  have  repeatedly  said,  is  essential 
to  the  preacher's  greatest  success.  It  cannot  be 
too  often  or  too  strongly  insisted  upon.  "Some 
preachers  fail  in  the  pulpit,"  says  a  thoughtful  and 
sagacious  observer,  "because  the  truths  uttered 
are  not  first  vitalized  in  the  seed-plot  of  a  living 
experience.     Such    preachers    are    dry    and    unim- 

294 


r 
ALEXANDER  McLAREN 

pressive.  What  they  have  to  teach  is  truth  per- 
haps, but  truth  second-hand,  with  no  stamp  of 
individuality,  or  certification  of  its  genuineness 
derived  from  the  preacher's  own  verification  of  it. 
On  the  other  hand,  the  simplest  truth  drawn  fresh 
from  the  well-head  of  a  living  experience  carries 
with  it  an  unmistakable  stamp  of  personal  attesta- 
tion and  genuineness.  It  has  a  strange  power  of 
attraction  and  impression.  Even  the  most  cap- 
tious cease  to  cavil  when  they  hear  it,  silenced  and 
awed  by  the  demonstration  of  the  spirit  thus  given 
it. 

A  sermon  from  a  preacher  of  this  sort  is  what 
Alexander  Knox  says  every  sermon  should  be, 
"a  cordial  communication  of  vitalized  truth."  The 
sermons  of  McLaren  were  of  this  kind.  We  have 
the  proof  of  it  in  his  conception  of  the  work  of  the 
ministry  and  the  qualifications  he  demanded  of  the 
preacher.  Besides  declaring,  as  just  quoted,  that 
'*the  preacher  has  need  of  the  personal  element 
in  his  message,"  he  says,  *'The  preacher  is  spoken 
of  in  the  New  Testament  as  a  'herald';  this  title 
implies  that  his  proclamation  be  plain,  clear,  assured. 
He  is  not  to  speak  timidly,  as  if  diverse  winds  of 
doctrine  had  blown  back  his  voice  into  his  trumpet. 
He  needs  to  deliver  his  good  new^s  with  urgency, 
as  if  it  was  of  some  moment  that  people  should 
know  and  accept  it.  Is  that  note  of  urgency  audi- 
ble, as  it  should  be,  in  our  preaching? 

'*The  evangelist  has  also  need  of  tenderness.  *We 
entreat  as  though  God  did  beseech  by  us.'  What 
outgush  of  sympathetic  yearning  can  be  too  great 

295 


NINE   GREAT   PREACHERS 

fitly  to  bear  on  its  current  the  message  of  a  love 
which  died  to  save?  Are  we  not  too  little  accuse- 
tomed  to  preach  with  our  hearts?" 

(5)  He  took  scrupulous  care  in  his  preaching  to 
convey  to  his  hearers  the  exact  truth  of  God  which  he 
had  learned.  *'The  preacher  is  not  to  bring  an 
ambiguous  message  in  cloudy  words,"  is  one  of 
his  pithy  sayings.  He  therefore  aimed  to  be  just 
to  the  sense  of  his  text.  Dr.  John  Brown  says 
that  in  his  earlier  ministry  Dr.  McLaren's  fastidi- 
ousness in  the  choice  of  words  led  him  sometimes, 
when  preaching,  to  pause  until  he  found  fitting 
expression  for  his  thought,  refusing  to  accept  any 
but  the  best  language  in  which  to  clothe  his  ideas. 
Practice  after  a  while  gave  him  readiness  and  skill 
in  the  use  of  that  choice,  flexible,  clear  English 
style,  which  distinguishes  to  a  remarkable  degree 
his  published  sermons,  none  of  which  he  permitted 
to  be  published  until  he  had  reached  his  full  maturity. 

(6)  He  bestowed  much  labor  and  pains  upon  the 
plans  of  his  sermons.  The  basis  of  his  sermon  plan 
is  usually  a  careful  textual  analysis  with  a  large 
element  of  exposition.  His  introductions  are  gen- 
erally models  of  careful,  skillful  exposition.  His 
topics  and  divisions ,  are  solidly  based  upon  the  re- 
sults of  his  analysis  and  careful  exegesis.  In  his 
handling  of  the  text,  "you  may  be  sure  that  the 
meaning  he  gives  is,  so  far  as  he  can  find  it,  honestly 
derived  from  the  Scripture  passage  used  and  not 
unfairly  forced  upon  it."  There  is  often  great 
felicity  in  his  interpretation  and  statements  of 
the  teaching  of  his  texts.     Examples:   sermons   1, 

296 


ALEXANDER  McLAREN 

19,  21  of  the  first  series  of  "Sermons  preached  in 
Manchester." 

The  partitioning  of  his  discourse  on  the  Knes  made 
by  his  textual  analysis  is  the  work  of  a  master- 
workman.  It  is  at  once  evident  that  we  have  no 
careless  bungler  here.  On  this  account  when  he 
had  attained  the  maturity  of  his  powers  and  per- 
fection of  his  skill,  because  of  the  value  of  his  work 
as  affording  the  best  models  of  homiletic  skill  and 
achievement,  McLaren  was  called"  the  Preachers' 
Preacher,"  i.e.,  a  preacher  such  as  they  especially 
appreciate,  and  whom  they  find  it  profitable  to  study 
for  the  superiority  of  his  method  and  the  inspiring 
excellence  of  his  work. 

Preparing  himself  for  his  pulpit  by  this  method 
and  in  accordance  with  these  working  principles 
he  became,  even  while  in  Southampton,  a  marked 
man  in  the  Baptist  religious  body;  so  that  when 
the  important  church  in  the  Union  Chapel,  Man- 
chester, was  left  without  a  pastor,  in  1858,  he  was 
called  to  its  service,  and  ministered  to  it  until  1903, 
a  period  of  forty-five  years.  Entering  upon  his  pas- 
torate there  at  the  age  of  thirty-two  and  continu- 
ing in  it  to  the  age  of  seventy-seven,  his  long 
ministry  to  that  church  and  congregation  had,  of 
course,  its  different  stages:  its  stage  of  early  increas- 
ing splendor,  of  meridian  glory,  and  of  slowly  waning 
brightness  like  that  of  the  late  afternoon;  but  from 
first  to  last  it  was  a  great  and  most  successful  min- 
istry. "Perhaps  no  preacher,"  said  Sir  William 
Robertson  Nicoll  concerning  him  when  near  the  end 
of  it,    "has   ever  ploughed  so   straight   and   sharp 

297 


r- 


NINE   GREAT  PREACHERS 

a  furrow  across  the  field  of  life,  never  looking  aside, 
never  turning  back,  maintaining  his  power  and  his 
freshness  through  all  the  long  years  that  stretch 
between  his  early  beginning  and  the  present  day." 
Other  testimonies  as  to  his  greatness  as  a  sermon- 
maker  and  preacher  might  be  quoted  by  the  score. 
At  his  Ministerial  Jubilee  it  was  the  general  opin- 
ion expressed  by  the  letters  received  and  the  ad- 
dresses heard,  that  Dr.  McLaren  had  "enriched 
the  pulpit  literature  of  our  times  with  treasures 
which  the  Christian  Church  will  not  willingly  let 
perish." 

Especially  striking  and  specific  is  the  testimony 
of  an  eminent  American  preacher,  Dr.  Parkhurst 
of  New  York.  He  sa^^s:  "Roaming  about  a  theo- 
logical library,  a  volume  of  'Sermons  preached  in 
Manchester'  caught  my  eye.  We  opened  by  chance 
and  began  to  read.  The  sermon  was  upon  Heb. 
12:  1.  (19th  sermon,  first  series  of  the  "Sermons 
in  Manchester").  Surely  it  was  a  find  to  us!  It 
brought  just  the  message  which  we  had  long  needed 
and  been  unconsciously  seeking.  That  sermon 
wrought  a  revolution  in  our  apprehension  of  Christi- 
anity, and  in  our  preaching.  When  we  planned 
to  cross  the  Atlantic,  we  said,  '  We  will  see  and  hear 
McLaren,'  and  we  did  it,  going  two  hundred  miles 
for  the  purpose.  'The  Union  Chapel'  was  a  brick 
building  seating  fifteen  hundred  people.  Two  thous- 
and were  packed  into  it  that  day,  the  people  crowd- 
ing in  chairs  close  up  to  and  back  of  the  pulpit. 
The  preacher  then  was  in  his  sixty-first  year.  In 
personal  appearance  he  was  thin,  tall,  spare,  with  an 

298 


ALEXANDER  McLAREN 

attractive  face.  When  young  he  must  have  been 
a  handsome  man.  He  did  not  look  clerical.  He 
wore  no  pulpit  gown,  not  even  the  ministerial  white 
cravat.  In  preaching  he  had  no  manuscript  or 
notes  before  him.  In  the  introduction  he  clearly 
announced  his  subject,  and  told  his  hearers  how, 
i.  e.,  in  what  order,  he  proposed  to  present  it.  Soon 
his  subject  possesses  him  and  he  takes  fire.  His 
thought  transforms  him.  His  voice  becomes  reso- 
nant, tender,  impressive.  It  seems  as  if  God  was 
speaking  to  you.  Every  person  in  the  house  is 
held  in  solemn  and  impressive  awe  of  the  truth. 
*That  is  preaching,'  I  said,  'and  we  have  not 
heard  the  like  in  Europe.'  " 

Further  evidence  of  his  greatness  is  found  in  his 
skillful  application  of  the  gospel  to  men.  He  wrought 
out  for  himself,  and  for  the  use  of  the  ministry, 
in  his  published  sermons,  the  best  explication  we 
know  of  the  plan  of  salvation  disclosed  in  the  New 
Testament.  "It  is  here,"  says  Dr.  John  Brown, 
"that  Dr.  McLaren's  distinctive  excellence  as  a 
preacher  shows  itself.  Through  a  long  public  life 
he  has  been  a  continuous,  profound,  accurate  and 
prayerful  student  of  God's  revelation,  and  at  the 
same  time  a  close  observer  of  the  actual  facts  of 
religious  experience  as  found  in  the  living  men  and 
women  of  the  church  of  God.  In  this  way  he  has 
attained  to  something  like  a  clear  and  coherent 
science  of  that  spiritual  life  which  is  derived  from 
Christ  and  maintained  by  the  spirit  of  God;  and 
as  we  might  expect  from  the  character  of  the  man 
this  science  underlies  all  his  teaching. "     (See  "Puri- 

299 


NINE   GREAT  PREACHERS 

tan  Preachers  and  Preaching,"  Yale  Lectures  by- 
John  Brown  D.D.) 

Examples  of  Dr.  McLaren's  doctrinal  teaching 
are  found  in  sermons  8,  9,  10,  11  and  20  of  the  third 
series  of  "Sermons  preached  in  Manchester."  In 
these  sermons,  and  others,  we  are  shown  how  "the law 
of  the  spirit  of  life  in  Jesus  Christ  sets  us  free  from 
the  law  of  sin  and  death";  and  how  "the  word  of 
Gods'  grace  is  able  to  build  men  up  and  to  give 
them  an  inheritance  amongst  all  them  that  are 
sanctified."  For  a  clear  and  succinct  statement 
of  this  "Science  of  Spiritual  Life,"  as  formulated 
by  Dr.  McLaren,  we  refer  to  Dr.  Brown's  instruc- 
tive study  of  him.  Though  possibly  called  "ob- 
solete theology"  by  some,  it  is,  to  many  others, 
nevertheless  as  vital  and  enduring  as  the  teaching 
of  the  New  Testament  and  of  human    experience. 

What  were  the  personal  qualities  which  have 
made  Dr.  McLaren  so  great  a  preacher?  We  find 
the  following  spoken  of  or  clearly  indicated  by  his 
published  sermons: 

(1)  An  impressive  personal  presence  and  delivery 
in  the  pulpit.  "He  has  a  face,"  says  Professor 
Pattison,  "which,  in  its  profile,  at  times  suggests 
that  of  Dante;  eyes  of  wonderful  luster  and  depth; 
a  tall  lithe  figure;  appropriate  and  effective  gesture; 
and  a  varied  voice,  which,  while  retaining  enough 
of  the  Scottish  accent  to  make  it  pathetic,  is  more 
remarkable  for  its  power  to  give  a  sharp  and  crisp 
accentuation  to  certain  words." 

An  Australian  journalist,  describing  his  preaching, 
when   Dr.    McLaren   visited   that   continent,   says: 

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ALEXANDER  McLAREN 

"A  wondrously  pathetic  little  bit  in  the  sermon 
about  Abraham  and  Isaac  going  up  Moriah  will 
not  soon  be  forgotten.  Here  the  voice  changed, 
softened  and  seemed  to  linger  over  the  words: 
'Where  is  the  lamb?'  While  the  answer,  'My  son, 
God  will  provide  himself  a  lamb,'  was  like  the  wail 
of  a  breaking  heart." 

Such  power  of  managing  the  voice,  so  as  to  give 
to  striking  situations  and  utterances  a  deep,  lasting 
impression  and  a  haunting  lodgment  in  the  memory, 
is  rare  in  public  speakers  and  of  great  value. 

(2)  Sanity  of  mind.  By  reason  of  this,  his  views 
of  Christian  truth  and  its  application  to  human 
needs  and  diverse  situations  were  always  marked 
by  justness  and  sobriety.  The  truth  has  received 
no  distortion,  or  refraction,  or  false  coloring,  in  its 
passage  through  his  mind  because  of  any  morbid 
tendency  or  eccentricity.  His  estimates  and  state- 
ments are  fair  and  trustworthy,  and  his  hearers 
are  inspired  with  confidence  in  him  because  of  his 
obvious  candor  and  justness.  They  do  not  think 
it  necessary  to  discount  and  modify  what  he  says, 
to  obtain  the  real  truth. 

(3)  Penetration,  whereby  he  discerned  the  hidden 
treasures  of  truth  and  its  manifold  implications.  His 
natural  power  of  penetration  was  doubtless  increased 
and  quickened  by  his  constant  study  of  the  Bible, 
and  his  much  thinking  upon  its  truth.  "The  en- 
trance of  God's  word  giveth  light,"  and  "in  His 
light  w^e  see  light." 

(4)  Keen  religious  sensibility.  This  gave  warmth 
and  intensity  to  his  religious  feelings  and  his  utter- 

301 


NINE   GREAT  PREACHERS 

ances  of  Christian  truth,  caused  him  to  kindle  easily 
in  the  presence  of  a  congregation  for  whom  he  had, 
as  he  thought,  an  important  divine  message,  and 
made  his  sermons  aflame  with  energy  and  persuasive 
appeal.  This  sensibility  to  truth  and  eagerness 
to  impart  it  to  men  and  persuade  them  to  heed 
it,  is  the  orator's  distinctive  gift,  and  Professor 
Pattison  says  of  McLaren:  "He  has  what  is  rare 
in  the  preacher,  the  scholar's  mind  coupled  with 
the  orator's  heart."  It  is  a  quality,  however,  that 
distinguishes  all  great  preachers. 

(5)  Another  quality,  which  he  possessed  in  com- 
mon with  other  great  and  popular  preachers,  was 
a  lively  and  fruitful  imagination,  with  which  to  il- 
lustrate and  glorify  the  Christian  truth  he  presented. 
"In  freshness  and  fertility  of  illustration,"  says 
Professor  Pattison,  "he  is  unexcelled  by  any  con- 
temporaneous preacher."  We  find  ample  proof 
of  this  in  his  published  sermons.  Metaphors  and 
similes  of  a  striking  and  beautiful  kind  abound 
in  them.  You  can  scarcely  find  a  sermon,  in  which 
there  is  not  found,  pictured  in  full,  or  suggested, 
some  impressive  image  that  adorns  and  makes 
memorable  the  truth  set  forth.  Read  over  the 
8th,  9th,  20th,  and  21st  sermons  of  the  first  series 
of  the  "Sermons  Preached  in  Manchester";  or 
the  1st,  2d,  and  20th  of  the  third  series,  for  ex- 
amples. Note  the  variety  and  the  originality  of 
his  illustrations  and  the  different  fields  from  which 
he  derives  them.  He  makes  nature,  art,  history, 
and  the  scenes  of  man's  common  toil,  all  tributary 
to  his  purpose  to  explain  and  exalt  the  truth.     We 

302 


ALEXANDER  McLAREN 

here  give  a  few  specimens:  "You  and  I  write  our^ 
lives  as  if  on  one  of  those  'manifold'  writers  which 
you  use.  A  thin  filmy  sheet  here,  a  bit  of  black 
paper  below  it;  hut  the  writing  goes  through  wpon  the 
next  page,  and  when  the  blackness  that  divides  two 
worlds  is  swept  away,  there,  the  history  of  each 
life  remains  legible  in  eternity." 

"The  only  question  worth  asking  in  regard  to  ^ 
the  externals  of  our  life  is,  'how  far  does  each  thing 
help  me  to  be  a  good  man.^'  And  to  care  whether 
a  thing  is  painful  or  pleasant,  is  as  absurd  as  to  care 
whether  the  brick  layer's  trowel  is  knocking  the 
sharp  corner  off  a  brick,  or  plastering  mortar  on 
the  one  below  it  before  he  lays  it  carefully  on  its 
course.  'Is  the  building  getting  on?'  That  is  the 
one  question  that  is  worth  thinking  about." 

"If  we  have  once  got  hold  of  the  principle  thab/ 
all  which  is,  summer  and  winter,  storm  and  sun- 
shine, possession  and  loss,  memory  and  hope,  work 
and  rest,  and  all  the  other  antitheses  of  life,  is 
equally  the  product  of  His  (God's)  will,  equally 
His  means  for  our  discipline;  then  we  have  the 
amulet  and  talisman  which  will  preserve  us  from 
the  fever  of  desire  and  the  shivering  fits  of  anxiety 
as  to  things  that  perish.  As  they  tell  us  of  a  Chris- 
tian Father  (Bernard  of  Clairvaux),  who,  travel-  ^ 
ing  by  one  of  the  great  lakes  of  Switzerland  all 
day  long  on  his  journey  to  the  church  council  that 
w^as  absorbing  his  thoughts,  said  toward  evening 
to  the  deacon  who  was  pacing  by  him,  'Where  is 
the  Lake.^'  So  you  and  I,  journeying  along  the 
margin   of   this    great   flood   of   things    when    wild 

303 


NINE   GREAT  PREACHERS 

storm  sweeps  across  it  or  when  the  sunbeams  ghnt 
upon  its  waters  and  *' birds  of  peace  sit  brooding 
on  the  charmed  wave,"  shall  be  careless  of  the 
changeful  sea,  if  the  eye  looks  beyond  the  visible 
and  beholds  the  unseen,  the  unchanging  real  pres- 
ences that  make  glory  in  the  darkest  lives  and 
*  sunshine  in  the  shady  places.'  "   "^ 

The  greatest  value  of  such  imaginative  power 
in  the  preacher  combined  with  his  religious  sensi- 
bility and  emotion  to  intensify  it,  is  that  hy  it  he 
is  able  to  invest  familiar  and  commonplace  truths 
with  fresh  charm  and  potency,  and  thus  renew  or 
keep  perpetually  alive  their  practical  influence 
over  the  heart.  Most  religious  truth  after  a  while 
becomes  trite  and  commonplace ;  on  this  account  men 
are  in  danger  of  neglecting  it,  But  if  men  neglect 
it,  before  they  have  acted  upon  it  and  wrought 
its  saving  and  sanctifying  virtue  into  their  hearts 
and  lives,  they  do  so  at  their  peril.  Happy  and 
most  useful,  therefore,  is  the  preacher  who  has  the 
power  of  rescuing  men  from  that  peril  by  preserv- 
ing through  his  imaginative  charm  the  practical 
influence  of  the  truth.  Example;  2d  sermon,  third 
series  of  "Sermons  Preached  in  Manchester";  "The 
Bitterness  and  Blessedness  of  Brevity  of  Life." 

(6)  He  possessed  a  thoughtful  and  suggestive  mind. 
Dr.  Joseph  Parker,  speaking  of  him,  says:  ''He 
always  says  something  to  his  people,  something  that 
sticks.  In  this  respect  he  is  much  superior  to  Spur- 
geon.  He  thinks  more  and  better."  He  is  not 
merely  a  preacher,  occasionally,  of  great  sermons, 
like  Professor  Park  and  Robert  Hall;  but  an  in- 

304 


ALEXANDER  McLAREN 

exhaustively  productive  preacher  of  good  sermons; 
sermons  which  as  a  rule  made  a  powerful  impres- 
sion, and  made  it  for  the  truth  he  preached  and 
not  chiefly  for  the  preacher.  His  native  capacity 
for  strong,  rich  thoughts  was  strengthened  by  his 
habits  of  brooding  over  his  truth  and  of  careful 
elaboration  of  it  in  preparation  for  preaching. 
Schooling  himself,  as  he  did,  to  "use,  as  his  first 
and  chief  organ  of  expression  of  thought,  not  the 
pen  but  the  tongue,"  the  wonder  is  that  he  was 
able  in  the  premeditation  of  his  sermons  to  exact 
from  his  mind  so  much  genuine,  prolonged,  con- 
secutive thinking.  It  implied  great  native  mental 
ability  perfected  by  the  discipline  of  education  and 
held  to  its  work  by  the  most  determined  will.  As 
examples  of  clear,  admirable  and  just  thinking, 
study  the  13th  and  23d  sermons,  of  the  third  series 
of  the  "Manchester  Sermons."  Because  of  this  qual- 
ity we  do  not  know  of  any  sermons  that  better  de- 
serve, or  would  better  repay  careful  study  than  Dr. 
McLaren's.  They  are  valuable  for  their  wealth 
of  Biblical  truth  adorned  with  great  learning  and 
a  chastened  imagination;  for  their  exemplification 
of  the  highest  homiletic  skill,  and  for  the  convincing 
proof  they  afford  to  any  intelligent,  fair-minded 
reader,  that  a  sermon,  ideally  considered,  instead 
of  being  a  dull,  vapid  talk,  or  a  heavy  essay,  as 
is  commonly  supposed,  may  be,  and  often  is  a  de- 
lightful, uplifting,  profitable  discourse  well  worth 
a  man's  thoughtful  attention. 

(7)  He  "possessed  an  invincible  faith  in  the  perma- 
nent value  and  importance  of  the  preacher  s    office. 

20  305 


NINE   GREAT  PREACHERS 

As  God  had  appointed  that  men  should  be  saved 
by  the  preaching  of  the  gospel,  Dr.  McLaren  could 
not  be  made  to  think  that  this  office  would  ever 
become  useless  and  the  pulpit  effete.  "The  teaching 
office  of  the  preacher  is  depreciated,"  he  said,  "as 
being  superseded  by  the  hundred- voiced  press. 
But  granting  the  influence  of  the  press,  if  this 
supersedes  the  pulpit,  it  is  the  fault  of  the  occupant 
thereof.  A  certain  minister  once  told  a  shrewd  old 
Scotch  lady  that  he  was  engaged  to  deliver  an 
address  on  the  power  of  the  pulpit,  and  asked  what 
her  views  on  the  subject  were.  She  answered:  *The 
power  of  the  pulpit!  That  depends  on  wha's  in 
it, '  which  is  a  truth  to  be  laid  to  heart  by  all  preach- 
ers. No  man  is  superseded  but  through  his  own 
deficiencies.  There  must  be  weakness  in  the  wall 
which  the  storm  blows  down.  The  living  voice  has 
all  its  old  power  today,  when  it  is  a  voice  and  not 
an  echo,  or  a  mumble.  If  a  man  has  anything 
to  say,  and  will  say  it  with  all  his  heart,  and  with 
all  his  soul,  and  with  all  his  strength,  he  will  not  lack 
auditors.  Books  have  their  province,  and  preachers 
have  theirs,  and  neither  can  efface  the  other,  or 
supply  the  place  of  the  other." 

In  this  confidence  he  worked  on  with  unflagging 
zeal.  His  wife,  who  was  his  cousin,  Marion 
McLaren,  contributed  much  to  his  success.  They 
were  married  March  27,  1856,  while  he  was  yet  in 
Southampton.  She  gave  to  the  last  two  years  of 
his  ministry  there  its  crowning  grace,  and  in  Man- 
chester for  more  than  a  quarter  of  a  century  she 
greatly  helped  him. 

306 


ALEXANDER  McLAREN 

Writing  in  his  old  age  to  Sir  William  Robertson 
Nicoll  in  regard  to  a  sketch  of  his  career  in  the  Brit- 
ish Monthly,  he  said  of  his  wife:  "I  would  fain  that  ^ 
in  any  notices  of  what  I  am,  or  have  been  able  to 
do,  it  should  be  told  that  the  best  part  of  it  all 
came  and  comes  from  her.  We  read  and  thought 
together,  and  her  clear,  bright  intellect  illumined 
obscurities  and  'rejoiced  in  the  truth.'  We  worked 
and  bore  together,  and  her  courage  and  deftness 
made  toil  easy  and  charmed  away  difficulties.  She 
lived  a  life  of  nobleness,  of  strenuous  effort,  of  as- 
piration, of  sympathy,  self-forgetfulness  and  love. 
She  was  my  guide,  my  inspirer,  my  corrector,  my 
reward.  Of  all  human  formative  influences  on  my 
character  and  life  hers  is  the  strongest  and  best. 
To  WTite  of  me  and  not  to  name  her  is  to  present 
a  fragment." 

Their  union  was  ideal.  When  she  was  taken  from 
him  December  21,  1884,  he  was  stunned  at  his  loss, 
and  life  seemed  robbed  of  its  chief  charm.  In  the 
words  of  Browning:  "The  soul  of  his  soul  had  been 
taken  from  his  side. " 

The  first  of  the  three  stages  of  McLaren's  Man-  1| 
Chester  ministry  was  from  1858  to  1875,  when  he 
was  chosen  president  of  the  Baptist  Union,  the 
highest  dignity  that  a  Baptist  minister  can  attain 
in  England.  He  was  then  but  forty-nine — younger 
than  anyone  ever  previously  chosen.  The  office 
was  never  given  to  anyone  but  a  man  of  first  rank. 
What  had  been  the  achievements  which  won  for 
him  this  honor  .^  Besides  the  good  work  done  in 
Southampton    that    had    attracted    the    attention 

307 


NINE   GREAT  PREACHERS 

of  Union  Chapel,  Manchester,  the  following  things 
in  Manchester:  In  the  first  place  he  soon  gained 
there  a  great  increase  of  reputation  as  a  preacher. 
Before  long  it  became  noised  abroad  through  the 
city  that  a  remarkable  preacher  had  come  to  them. 
"Very  soon,"  says  his  biographer,  "the  congrega- 
tion ceased  to  be  drawn  from  the  immediate  neigh- 
borhood. Listeners  came  from  all  parts  of  the  city 
and  beyond  it.  Some  came  in  carriages,  very  many 
came  on  foot.  There  were  no  tram  cars  or  bicycles 
in  those  days,  but  many  a  young  clerk  or  student 
who  worked  hard  through  the  week  found  his  way 
by  10.30  a.  m.  to  Union  Chapel,  and  left  it 
refreshed  in  spirit  and  resolved  to  come  again." 

The  church  grew  in  numbers  and  vitality.  On 
account  of  the  increase  of  numbers  the  chapel  which 
he  found  there  became  much  too  strait  for  them  and 
a  new  chapel  of  much  larger  capacity  and  superior 
equipment  for  their  flourishing  work  was  built  after 
he  had  been  with  them  eleven  years.  His  people 
felt  the  pressing  need  of  it  long  before  its  erection, 
— but  he  rather  discouraged  the  undertaking.  He 
feared  that  the  new  chapel  "would  be  half -empty." 
The  chapel  was  opened,  however,  for  worship  in 
November,  1869,  and  from  the  first  it  was  crowded. 
"The  congregations,"  we  are  told,  "were  as  remark- 
able for  their  composition  as  for  their  size.  They 
contained  men  of  all  classes  and  creeds,  rich  and 
prosperous  merchants,  men  distinguished  in  pro- 
fessional life,  and  others  working  their  way  toward 
success.  Young  men  from  the  offices  and  warehouses 
of  the  city  sat  side  by  side  with  artisans.    Strangers 

308 


ALEXANDER  McLAREN 

were  attracted  in  large  numbers,  among  them 
clergymen  and  dignitaries  of  the  Established  Church, 
Non-conformist  ministers,  literary  men,  artists  and 
students   from   the   theological   colleges." 

As  a  result  of  the  growth  and  "vitality"  of  his 
church,  missions  sprang  up  in  the  neighborhood 
like  offshoots  around  a  flourishing  tree.  These 
were  "chiefly  staffed  and  supported  by  the  Union 
Chapel  congregation."  His  influence  was  so  great 
and  inspiring  that  volunteers  for  the  work  in  every 
case  and  ample  funds  to  sustain  it  were  easily 
raised.  He  only  needed  to  point  out  a  good  chance 
for  Christian  service  to  have  it  embraced  by  those 
he  deemed  fit  to  undertake  it  and  able  to  support  it. 
Besides  having  a  kind  of  oversight  of  these  off- 
shoots from  his  church  he  showed  such  an  interest 
in  the  small  and  feeble  churches  in  his  vicinity  that 
they  began  to  flourish  under  the  stimulating  con- 
sciousness of  his  regard  for  them.  "Gradually  with- 
out his  even  thinking  of  it,"  says  his  biographer, 
"he  did  very  much  the  work  of  a  'bishop,'  and  his 
diocese  was  not  a  small  one."  He  became  first  of 
"the  three  mighties"  of  his  ministerial  association. 
"No  one  was  so  frequently  elected  to  preach  the  asso- 
ciation sermon,  to  write  the  circular  letter  or  to  take 
a  prominent  part  in  the  meetings  as  Dr.  McLaren. 
Ministerial  recognition  services  were  considered 
sadly  incomplete  if  he  could  not  be  present,  and  the 
joy  of  the  opening  or  re-opening  of  a  chapel  was 
sensibly  diminished  when  he  could  not  preach  one 
of  the  sermons."  He  was  in  demand  for  special 
occasions  there  in  Manchester,  and  in  London. 

309 


NINE   GREAT  PREACHERS 

In  the  great  Free  Trade  Hall  of  Manchester  he 
first  spoke  at  the  annual  meeting  of  the  City  Mis- 
sion in  1860  at  the  same  time  that  Joseph  Parker 
made  his  debut  there.  The  two  men,  we  are  told, 
were  striking  contrasts  to  one  another  in  appear- 
ance and  in  what  they  said,  but  both  arrested  at- 
tention from  the  very  first  and  retained  it.  It 
was  not  long  before  he  became  an  object  of  enthusi- 
astic love  and  admiration  for  the  whole  city — its 
pride,  as  giving  distinction  to  Manchester.  "He 
never,  perhaps,  took  part  in  a  meeting  in  the  Free 
Trade  Hall  when  the  large  building  was  not  filled  to 
its  utmost  capacity,  and  for  years  before  the  close 
of  his  career  almost  invariably  the  immense  audi- 
ence rose  to  receive  him  and  cheer  enthusiastically." 

He  was  in\ated  to  preach  before  the  London 
Missionary  Society,  at  its  annual  meeting  held 
in  old  Surrey  Chapel,  the  scene  of  many  noted 
gatherings.  The  sermon  given  had  for  its  subject 
"The  Secret  of  Power."  Though  it  was  more  than 
fifty  years  ago,  there  are  some  still  living  who  were 
present  on  the  occasion  and  remember  "the  awed 
attention  of  the  great  congregation."  x\mong  those 
who  came  into  the  vestry  to  greet  him  after  the 
service  was  Dr.  Binney,  who,  when  McLaren  was 
a  young  minister  at  Southampton  had  visited  and 
preached  for  him,  and  given  him  such  an  insight 
into  the  art  of  preaching  by  his  talk  and  the  ex- 
ample of  his  sermon,  that  he  said  many  years  after- 
wards, "it  was  Binney  taught  me  to  preach." 
McLaren,  noticing  his  entrance,  came  forward  to 
meet  him,   and  they  silently  clasped  each  other's 

310 


ALEXANDER   McLAREX 

hands,  both  faces  eloquent  with  emotion.  The 
pupil  had  surpassed  his  master;  for  Binney  felt, 
as  he  afterwards  told  a  friend,  that  he  himself  "had 
fallen  so  far  short  of  the  ideal  that  had  been  placed 
before  him,  he  had  never  even  seen  it  as  an  ideal." 
The  sermon  gives  the  title  to  one  of  McLaren's 
published  sermons.  It  is  a  remarkable  sermon. 
Few  Christians  can  read  it  T^-ithout  being  thrilled 
by  its  thought  and  spiritual  "power,"  though  such 
was  his  humility  that  he  never  would  have  thought 
of  himself  as  an  example  of  it. 

By  the  end  of  the  first  stage  in  his  Manchester 
ministry,  McLaren's  manner  and  style  of  preaching 
had  become  formed.  We  may  therefore  now  pict- 
ure him  to  ourselves  as  a  preacher  having  the  quali- 
ties ascribed  to  him  in  full  action  and  about  to  enter 
upon  its  second  stage,  extending  from  187o-lS90, 
when  J.  Edward  Roberts  became  his  assistant. 
Everything  involved  in  and  contributing  to  the 
power  of  his  preaching — "that  wondrous  preach- 
ing, that  made  one's  heart  vibrate  with  infinitude," 
as  an  intelligent  hearer  said  of  it,  is  important. 
Sabbath  morning  he  desired  "to  be  in\'isible  from 
the  time  he  left  his  study  till  he  was  in  his  pulpit. " 
His  bearing  in  the  pulpit  was  that  of  one  so  engrossed 
with  the  subject  of  his  message  that  thought  of 
himself  did  not  disturb  him.  This  made  him  the 
more  impressive.  The  reading  of  the  Scripture 
and  the  prayer  "helped"  him,  he  said,  and  really 
prepared  the  way  for  the  sermon.  His  reading 
interpreted  the  sense,  and  in  the  prayer  "I  try  to 
remember,"  he  said,  "that  I  am  speaking  to  God 

311 


NINE   GREAT  PREACHERS 

for  others  and  for  myself  and  that  He  is  listening. " 
The  tone  of  his  voice  as  he  prayed  unmistakably 
indicated  that  he  did  remember  God  was  listening. 

When  he  rose  to  deliver  his  sermon  he  appeared 
as  one  whose  soul  was  full  of  the  message  he  brought. 
His  colleague  and  successor,  Mr.  Roberts,  says  of 
him  with  indubitable  truth:  "The  power  that  holds 
the  congregation  spellbound  is  not  only  the  power 
of  a  splendid  intellect  and  of  a  skilled  orator,  though 
these  are  there;  it  is  the  power  of  one  who  has 
come  straight  from  the  presence  of  God  into  his 
pulpit  and  who  speaks  as  he  is  moved  by  the  Holy 
Ghost."  Another  of  his  hearers  says  of  him:  "His 
two  most  striking  peculiarities  are  his  utter  simpli- 
city and  his  intense  earnestness;  he  literally  quivers 
with  the  intensity  of  his  feeling  and  his  desire  to 
give  it  expression.  He  looks  at  you,  and  you  see 
and  hear  a  soul  gripping  yours  and  holding  it. 
There  is  no  opportunity  for  criticism.  This  man 
is  a  prophet  and  you  must  either  listen  and  swallow 
or  flee." 

In  accord  with  the  two  foregoing  testimonies 
is  that  of  a  plain  farmer's  wife.  Nine  years  after 
she  had  heard  him  preach,  she  said:  "I  can  hear 
him  now;  and  the  strange  thing  was  I  never  at  the 
time  thought  about  its  being  Dr.  McLaren  that 
we  all  knew  and  liked;  it  just  seemed  listening  to 
a  message  from  God."  A  message  from  God!  This 
reminds  us  of  the  apostle's  words,  "As  though  God 
did  beseech  you  by  us,  we  pray  you  in  Christ's 
stead."  That  was  the  impression  he  endeavored 
to  make.     Sometimes  his  entreaty  had  an  individu- 


ALEXANDER McLAREN 

alizing  personal  note,  and  a  profound  stillness 
pervaded  the  assembly  as  each  hearer  felt  the  grip 
of  the  preacher's  soul  laid  upon  and  holding  him. 
His  radiant  look  assisted  his  appeal.  "The  ad- 
dress created  an  atmosphere,"  another  listener 
said.  *'The  preacher  this  morning  lifted  us  into 
the  region  of  the  spiritual,  into  the  presence  of 
Jesus  Christ." 

We  can  scarcely  realize  what  this  preaching  of 
McLaren  meant  to  him;  what  an  expenditure  of 
all  the  forces  of  his  being — body,  mind  and  spirit. 
Early  in  his  ministry  he  spoke  of  each  Sunday 
service  as  a  "  woe. "  "This  feeling  continued  through 
his  life,"  his  biographer  says,  "and  only  those  who 
were  with  him  when  he  was  anticipating,  not  only 
special  services,  but  his  weekly  preparation  for  his 
own  pulpit,  can  know  the  tear  and  wear  of  spirit 
which  that  preparation  involved. "  "In  retrospect, " 
she  says,  "it  seems  little  short  of  a  miracle  that 
his  life  of  strenuous  preparation  for  each  sermon 
preached   was   continued   for   nearly   sixty   years." 

Notice  the  words,  "for  each  sermon  preached," 
for  he  could  not  relieve  the  "tear  and  wear"  of 
this  weekly  preparation  by  occasionally  preaching 
an  old  sermon.  "He  had  to  revivify  it  to  his  own 
mind  by  hours  of  thought  and  prayer.  A  sermon 
to  him  needs  to  be  not  what  he  had  prepared  weeks, 
months  or  years  before,  but  what  filled  his  mind 
now,  as  he  faced  his  congregation." 

Though  "he  had  singular  nerve  power  which 
quickened  and  intensified  his  thoughts  and  set 
fire  to  his  words,"  the  wonder  is  that  this  "nerve 

313 


NINE   GREAT  PREACHERS 

power"  freely  and  constantly  drawn  upon  in  the 
preparation  for  the  Sabbath  and  in  the  two  serv- 
ices preached  on  that  day  was  not  completely  ex- 
hausted long  before  its  failure.  The  secret  of  its 
unfailing  recuperation  and  remarkable  conserva- 
tion through  all  those  years  lay  in  his  command  of 
sleep — "tired  nature's  sweet  restorer."  Like  John 
Wesley  he  could  successfully  invoke  sleep  when 
needed.  For  its  interest  as  a  physiological  fact 
and  for  the  benefit  of  other  preachers,  we  quote 
the  entire  paragraph  in  which  his  biographer  speaks 
of  it:  *'0n  Sundays,  and  indeed  week  days,  too, 
he  always  rested  for  an  hour  or  more  in  the  afternoon. 
The  whole  time  was  spent  in  sleep.  He  had  a  most 
remarkable  power  of  being  able  to  sleep  at  will, 
a  power  without  which  he  could  scarcely  have  con- 
tinued the  strenuous  life  he  led  for  so  many  years. 
He  could  say  that,  notwithstanding  life-long  per- 
turbation before  each  sermon  and  public  engage- 
ment of  any  kind,  he  had  never  lost  a  night's  sleep 
either  before  or  after  even  those  he  dreaded  most. 
During  the  last  year  of  his  life  he  said:  *' Very  early 
in  my  career  as  a  minister  I  resolved  that  when  my 
head  reached  the  pillow  and  *I  will  both  lay  me 
down  to  sleep,'  or  its  equivalent  had  been  said, 
I  would  try  to  make  my  mind  a  blank,  and  I  thank 
God  I  have  been  able  very  successfully  to  do  so 
through  my  long  life." 

The  popularity  and  success  of  a  preacher  depends 
much  upon  the  personal  impression  he  makes  upon 
the  community  in  which  he  lives  and  upon  men 
generally.     If  he  is  conceited  and  "puts  on  airs,". 

314 


ALEXANDER  McLAREN 

he  repels  men,  no  matter  how  great  his  gifts;  if,  on 
the  other  hand,  he  is  a  modest,  friendly,  approach- 
able man,  shows  a  kindly  heart,  and  withal  is  pos- 
sessed of  a  genial  humor,  so  that  he  can  tell  a  good 
story  and  is  ready  to  laugh  appreciatively  at  the 
stories  of  other  men,  he  is  liked  by  all  and  his  bril- 
liant pulpit  gifts  will  win  the  more  admiration.  Dr. 
McLaren  was  a  man  of  the  latter  kind.  There  was 
nothing  stiff,  austere,  or  clerical  about  him.  His 
dress  and  manner  were  those  of  an  unpretentious, 
ordinary  gentleman.  He  usually  wore  what  the 
Scotchmen  call  a  soft  hat  and  the  light-colored  suit 
of  the  business  man  and  he  had  the  rapid,  springy 
walk  of  a  "lay "-man.  His  biographer  tells  two 
anecdotes  in  regard  to  his  appearance  to  strangers 
who  saw  and  met  him  on  his  vacations.  An  old 
woman,  when  informed  that  the  gentleman  to  whom 
she  had  been  "tellin'  the  road"  was  a  minister,  said 
firmly,  "I  dinna  think  it,  he's  ower  light  in  his 
walk  and  he  loupit  ower  the  burn  like  onything. " 

A  copy  of  his  photograph  placed  in  the  photog- 
rapher's window  was  recognized  by  tourists  from 
Manchester  and  Liverpool.  Many  copies  of  it  were 
called  for  by  would-be  purchasers.  The  artist, 
finding  that  the  negative  had  not  been  preserved, 
sulkily  remarked:  "That  man  micht  hae  tellt 
me  he  was  famous,  and  I  would  hae  keepit  him — 
he   didna  look  like  it." 

In  1877  the  University  of  Edinburgh  conferred 
upon  him  the  degree  of  Doctor  of  Divinity,  an  honor 
which,  though  accepted  with  hesitation  because  of 
his  modesty,  he  ultimately  appreciated  and  enjoyed. 

315 


/ 

NINE  GREAT  PREACHERS 

*' After  the  ceremony  was  over  Professor  Blackie 
said  to  a  friend,  'Commend  me,  among  all  the 
faces  there,  to  McLaren,  with  his  clear-cut  features 
and  eagle  eyes.'" 

Towards  the  end  of  1880,  after  he  had  been  in 
Manchester  twenty-two  years  he  showed  signs  of 
impaired  health.  Work  was  difficult  and  preaching 
impossible.  He  became  depressed  and  thought  of 
sending  in  his  resignation.  His  church  responded 
with  promptness  to  what  was  clearly  demanded, 
that  he  should  be  released  from  work  as  long  as 
necessary  for  his  recovery.  No  time  was  fixed  but 
he  took  a  year  for  rest  and  recuperation.  Toward 
the  end  of  1881  he  resumed  his  work — "but  with 
a  difference.  Up  to  this  time  he  had  had  no  as- 
sistant, but  now  the  Rev.  J.  G.  Raws  was  chosen 
for  that  office.  And  after  this  time  Dr.  McLaren 
only  preached  once  each  Sunday,  while  Mr.  Raws 
supplied  that  which  was  lacking  on  his  part  and 
greatly  added  to  his  peace  of  mind."  His  inter- 
rupted work,  taken  up  again,  was  carried  on  with 
renewed  vigor  and  sustained  energy  until  his  wife 
died  in  December,  1884.  What  her  loss  meant  to 
him  and  his  children  cannot  be  described.  "For 
a  time  he  could  not  face  meeting  friends,  however 
sympathetic, "  and  he  hid  himself  from  them.  But  he 
felt  that  he  still  had  his  work  to  do  and  he  was  only 
three  Sundays  away  from  his  pulpit.  The  shadow  of 
his  great  affiiction,  however,  remained,  "seen  in  the 
lines  of  his  face,  heard  in  the  pathetic  ring  of  his 
voice,  and,  above  all,  felt  in  the  chastened,  tender, 
but  always  manly  tone  of  his  mature  teaching." 

316 


ALEXANDER  McLAREN 

His  fame  as  a  preacher  had  reached  to  the  antipo- 
des, and  in  1888  he  was  earnestly  invited  to  come 
to  Australia  and  New  Zealand  as  the  representa- 
tive of  the  English  Baptish  Union,  and  on  Septem- 
ber 21,  he  and  his  two  unmarried  daughters  sailed 
from  London.  His  reception  and  entertainment 
in  Adelaide,  Melbourne  and  Dunedin,  N.  Z.,  were 
enthusiastic  and  the  tour  through  the  islands  was 
one  of  repeated  ovations — a  triumphal  progress. 
"Everywhere,"  he  wrote,  "we  have  met  with  the 
truest  kindness.  I  have  felt  the  unflagging  attention 
of  the  great  audiences  (3,000  they  tell  me)  most 
inspiring  and  I  feel  thankful  that  good  has  been 
done.  .  .  .  The  butter  has  been  laid  on  with  a 
spade,  but  the  heat  has  melted  it  and  it  has  mostly 
run  off."  "I  have  never  spoken  to  more  sym- 
pathetic and  more  responsive  audiences.  They 
have  helped  me  greatly."  The  stimulus  of  such 
interest  and  enthusiasm  led  him  to  overdo.  "I 
feel  as  if  I  had  come  to  an  end,"  he  said  before  the 
end  of  a  month,  and  a  pause  was  necessary. 

On  his  way  back  to  England  he  doubted  being 
able  to  begin  work  again  and  he  thought  of  res- 
ignation. During  his  absence  his  assistant,  Mr. 
Raws,  had  received  a  call  to  a  pastorate  elsewhere 
and  was  only  awaiting  Mr.  McLaren's  return  to 
leave.  This  gave  him  anxiety.  After  several  months, 
in  January,  1890,  Mr.  J.  Edwards  Roberts,  still 
in  college,  was  chosen  for  his  assistant  and  "so 
began  the  long  connection  (of  thirteen  years) honor- 
able to  both." 

We  come  now  to  the  third  (and  last)  stage  of  Dr. 

317 


NINE   GREAT  PREACHERS 

McLaren's  ministry  in  Manchester,  from  1890- 
1903.  It  was  a  stage  of  declining  physical  strength, 
but  of  little  less  mental  vigor. 

In  1896  he  completed  the  fiftieth  year  of  his 
ministry,  and  interest  in  the  event  was  widely  felt 
and  signally  manifested.  "An  address  handsomely 
bound"  signed  by  three  hundred  and  fifty  fellow 
ministers  was  presented  to  him.  On  the  occasion 
of  its  presentation,  "he  most  truly  received  an  ova- 
tion" from  the  large  audience  assembled.  With 
evident  emotion  he  said,  "I  can  only  render  from 
my  heart  of  hearts  thanks,  largely  mingled  with 
wonder,  at  the  place  which  you  allow  me  to  feel 
that  I  hold  in  your  regard." 

"In  Manchester  the  desire  to  commemorate  Dr. 
McLaren's  Jubilee  finally  took  the  form  of  asking 
him  to  sit  for  his  portrait,  which  was  to  be  pre- 
sented to  the  city  and  placed  in  the  art  gallery." 
The  formal  presentation  of  the  portrait  was  accom- 
panied by  speeches  from  the  Lord  Mayor,  Bishop 
Morehouse,  and  Dr.  McLaren's  friend.  Sir  William 
Crossley,   who   was   in   the   chair. 

The  testimonies  of  the  bishop  and  of  the  chairman 
in  regard  to  the  eminence  and  power  of  Dr.  McLaren 
as  a  preacher  are  so  impressive  as  to  justify  quota- 
tion. Said  Bishop  Morehouse:  "Thirty  years  ago 
I  was  studying  with  great  profit  the  published  ser- 
mons of  the  gentleman  we  honor  today;  and  I  will 
say  this,  that  in  an  age  which  had  been  charmed 
and  inspired  by  the  sermons  of  Newman  and  Robert- 
son of  Brighton,  there  are  no  published  discourses 
which  for  profundity  of  thought,   logical  arrange- 

318 


ALEXANDER  McLAREN 

ment,  eloquence  of  appeal  and  power  over  the  human 
heart,  exceed  in  merit  those  of  Dr.  McLaren." 

Sir  William  Crossley  said:  **Dr.  McLaren's  writ- 
ings are  well  known  and  have  made  him  friends 
all  over  the  world.  Those  who  have  heard  him  preach 
know  him  better  still,  and  those  who  have  known 
and  loved  him  for  many  years  and  have  enjoyed 
his  friendship  know  him  best  of  all.  But  all  are 
are  deeply  indebted  to  him  not  only  for  his  high 
scholarship,  but  for  the  marvelous  power  he  has  of 
getting  round  men's  hearts,  elevating  their  desires 
and  making  them  think  more  and  more  about  spirit- 
ual things." 

Another  notable  occasion  during  the  period  we 
are  now  considering  was  the  joint  meeting  of  the 
Baptist  and  Congregational  Unions  held  in  the  City 
Temple,  London,  April,  1901,  when  Dr.  McLaren 
gave  his  famous  address  (above  referred  to),  *'An 
Old  Preacher  on  Preaching."  The  Temple  was 
densely  crowded  and  many  could  not  get  in.  Con- 
trary to  his  custom  he  had  ^Titten  out  the  address 
fully  and  read  it.  But  notwithstanding  the  restraint 
it  was  heard  throughout  with  rapt  attention.  Sir 
W.  R.  Nicoll  said  of  it,  "Considering  its  design  and 
its  speaker  and  its  audience,  it  was  simply  perfect 
and  will  never  be  forgotten  by  those  who  heard  it. " 
But  strange  to  say,  w^e  learn  from  his  biographer 
that  Dr.  McLaren's  own  verdict  was,  *'A  failure 
because  I  read  it.  Again  and  again  I  was  tempted 
to  fling  the  paper  from  me  and  let  myself  go.'' 

In  October  of  1901  still  another  notable  occasion 
was  the  autumn  meeting  of  the  Baptist  Union  in 

319 


NINE   GREAT  PREACHERS 

Edinburgh,  at  which  he  again  occupied  the  chair, 
and  as  president  gave  the  usual  address.  The  sub- 
ject of  his  address  was  "EvangeHcal  Mysticism," 
w^hich,  he  said,  "though  theoretically  recognized 
by  all  does  not  enter  in  its  due  proportion  into  either 
the  creed  or  the  experience  of  most  of  us,  to  the 
great  detriment,  as  I  believe,  of  both  experience 
and  creed."  A  passage  toward  the  end,  "when," 
we  are  told,  "his  radiant  look  told  even  more  than 
his  words"  gives  us  probably  a  just  idea  of  his  sub- 
ject and  his  own  conception  of  it.  "Consider  how 
the  consciousness  of  the  higher  life  in  Christ  brings 
with  it  an  absolute  incapacity  of  believing  that 
what  men  call  death  can  effect  it.  Christ  in  us  is 
'the  hope  of  Glory.'  The  true  evidence  for  immor- 
tality lies  in  the  deep  experience  of  the  Christian 
spirit.  It  is  when  a  man  can  say  'Thou  art  the 
strength  of  my  heart,'  that  the  conviction  springs 
up  inevitable  and  triumphant  that  such  a  union 
can  no  more  be  severed  by  the  physical  accident 
of  death  than  a  spirit  can  be  wounded  by  a  sword, 
and  that,  therefore,  he  has  the  right  to  say  further, 
'and  my  portion  forever.' 

On  the  last  Sunday  in  June,  1903,  at  the  comple- 
tion of  the  forty-fifth  year  of  his  Manchester  ministry 
he  ended  his  pastoral  labors  with  Union  Chapel, 
having  previously  informed  his  congregation  that 
the  time  had  come  when  he  had  no  longer  the  "physi- 
cal strength  for  the  continuous  discharge  of  the 
joyous  duties"  thereof. 

But  though  he  scarcely  preached  again,  there 
or  elsewhere,   he   does   not   wish   to   resign  himself 

320 


ALEXANDER  McLAREN 

to  entire  idleness.  Years  before  this  he  quotes  with 
approval  Whittier's  "My  Psalm"  and  its  lines, 

"I  break  my  pilgrim  staff,  I  lay 
Aside  the  toiling  oar," 

as  appropriate  to  the  anticipated  close  of  his  pastoral 
work.  He  now  has  got  beyond  that  feeling  and  has 
John  Wesley's  desire  *'to  cease  at  once  to  work  and 
live,"  and  says  that  "to  enjoy  a  well  earned  rest  is  a 
delusion. "  The  habit  of  creative  work  and  the  habit 
of  doing  it  constrains  him  to  exercise  his  faculties  as 
his  diminished  strength  may  permit  for  the  remaining 
seven  years  of  his  life.  It  was  very  good  work  too, 
such  as  his  Expositions  of  the  American  Sunday- 
school  lessons  in  the  Sunday-School  Times,  and 
"The  Expositions  of  Holy  Scripture,"  though  at 
times  he  would  ask,  "Is  it  not  foolish  for  an  old 
man  to  imagine  he  can   do   good   work?" 

But  best  of  all,  those  last  years  were  years  of 
growing  fitness  for  heaven.  Writing  to  a  friend  he 
said,  "You  will  get  patience  increased  if  you  'prac- 
tice the  Presence  of  God.'  I  feel  for  myself  that 
that  is  what  I  need  most.  Call  the  attitude  by  any 
name  you  like,  it  is  the  life  of  all  our  religion.  Christ's 
name  for  it  is  the  best,  *  Abide  in  Me.'  " 

Writing  to  another  friend,  he  says,  "You  ask 
me  about  my  thoughts  when  they  are  free.  I  think 
I  can  say  that  they  do  often,  and  with  a  kind  of 
instinct,  turn  Godward.  Many  times  they  glide 
thither,  perhaps  because  age  diminishes  wish  to  work 
and  indolence  as  much  as  devotion  determines  the 
set  of  the  current.    I  do  not  wish  you  to  think  that 

21  321 


NINE   GREAT  PREACHERS 

my  thoughts  invariably  turn  Godward.  It  is  often 
difficult  to  keep  them  fixed  on  God  or  Christ,  but 
I  am  quite  sure  the  more  we  make  the  effort  to  pene- 
trate all  our  life  with  conscious  contemplation  of 
the  Divine  Presence  and  Love,  the  more  peaceful 
we  shall  be  and  the  better  able  to  accept  His  will 
and  to  find  it  right." 

His  attending  physician  asks  "Who  could  be  for 
any  time  in  his  company  without  feeling  that  his  pre- 
sence and  his  words  were  at  once  an  inspiration  and 
a  benediction?"  Talking  with  him  concerning  the 
future,  he  said:  "I  cannot  perhaps  always,  but 
sometimes  I  can  say  (with  Richard  Baxter) 

"But  'tis  enough  that  Christ  knows  all 
And  I  shall  be  with  Him." 

"On  the  afternoon  of  May  5,  1910,  very  quietly 
the  end  came."  His  ashes  were  laid  beside  those 
of  his  wife,  where  years  before  a  stone  cross  had 
been  erected  with  the  words,  In  Christo,  in  Pace, 
in  Spe.  The  trustful  words  express  his  state  of 
mind  as  he  approached  that  grave  in  the  beautiful 
sunset  of  his  life,  when  we  fancy  Tennyson's  lines 
may  have  often  recurred  to  him: 

"Sunset  and  evening  star. 

And  one  clear  call  for  me! 
And  may  there  be  no  moaning  of  the  bar. 

When  I  put  out  to  sea. 

***** 

"For  tho'  from  out  our  bourne  of  Time  and  Place 
The  flood  may  bear  me  far, 
I  hope  to  see  my  Pilot  face  to  face 
When  I  have  crossed  the  bar." 

322 


IX 
HENRY  WARD  BEECHER 


IX 

HENRY  WARD   BEECHER 

1813-1887 

This  man  may  be  regarded  as  the  greatest  of 
American  preachers.  This  is  the  opinion  of  many 
judges  of  the  highest  eminence.  Let  the  estimates 
of  two  of  these  stand  for  the  substance  of  the  ex- 
pressed opinions  of  a  score.  "That  is  true  of  him 
as  a  pulpit  orator,"  Professor  G.  B.  Willcox  says, 
"which  never  has  been  true  before  of  any  other 
preacher  in  this  country  and  will  never  be  true  again ; 
if  in  any  company  of  intelligent  persons  you  should 
speak  of  the  foremost  preacher  on  this  continent 
without  mentioning  his  name,  nine  persons  in  every 
ten  w^ould  know  whom  you  meant." 

The  second  judge  is  Dr.  Armitage,  a  distinguished 
Baptist  preacher  of  New  York,  who  says  of  him: 
"His  sermons  exhibit  a  larger  reading  of  human 
nature,  a  broader  use  of  philosophical  inquiry,  a 
fresher  application  of  Gospel  truths,  a  clearer  induc- 
tion of  common  sense,  and  a  more  independent 
rectitude  than  can  be  found  in  any  other  modern 
preacher." 

In  our  inquiry  as  to  the  influences  contributing 
to  make  him  great,  we  find  that  heredity  is  to  be 
reckoned  among  the  chief.  His  father  and  mother 
were   both   superior   persons.     His    father,    Lyman 

S25 


NINE   GREAT  PREACHERS 

Beecher,  was  one  of  the  greatest  preachers  of  his 
generation.  Dr.  J.  H.  Barrows,  who  denominates 
him  "the  King  of  the  New  England  Pulpit"  at  the 
time,  describes  him  as  *'a  man  of  magnetic  eloquence, 
restless  energy,  and  great  evangelical  fervor!" 
His  name  is  associated  with  important  reforms,  as 
that  against  dueling,  in  regard  to  which  he  preached 
a  notable,  widely-read  sermon  called  out  b^^  the 
death  of  Alexander  Hamilton  through  his  duel 
with  Aaron  Burr;  and  especially  the  Temper- 
ance reform,  in  regard  to  which  he  preached  a  series 
of  powerful  sermons  that  did  much  to  check  the 
flood  of  intemperance  which  then  was  desolating 
the  land. 

Lyman  Beecher  was  a  man  of  indomitable  spirit, 
whom  no  difficulties  could  daunt,  and  a  tireless 
worker  for  the  promotion  of  good.  His  illustrious 
son  said  of  him:  "My  father  always  had  the  angel 
of  hope  looking  over  his  shoulder  when  he  wrote." 
He  was  an  earnest  believer  in  and  advocate  of  the 
"New  Theology,"  as  it  was  then  called,  as  contrasted 
with  the  old,  fatalistic  hyper-Calvinistic  theology, 
which  denied  free  agency  and  the  sinner's  ability  to 
repent  and  embrace  the  salvation  of  Christ  revealed 
in  the  Gospel.  He  was  a  sanguine,  self-reliant 
man.  i  He  believed  that  if  he  could  have  talked  with 
the  poet  Byron,  he  could  have  so  clearly  explained 
to  him  the  truth  of  the  Gospel  that  all  his  mental 
diflSculties  would  have  been  removed,  and  he  would 
have  been  converted  from  his  misanthropy  and 
become  a  joyful  Christian.  He  was  withal  a  frolic- 
some man  with  his  children;  he  used  to  dance  with 


HENRY  WARD  BEECHER 

t,hem  in  his  stocking  feet  to  the  music  of  his  own 
violin  and  the  great  damage  of  his  stockings.  He 
famiharized  them  with  the  questions  of  the  day,  set 
his  boys  to  arguing  with  him  concerning  them,  and 
*'thus,"  says  Dr.  Abbott,  "developed  their  mental 
muscle,^ught  them  to  do  their  own  thinking  and 
to  stand  by  their  convictions  and  defend  them,  i  He 
had  a  delightfully  naive,  childlike  egotism,  quite 
free  from  self-conceit,  yet  inspiring  him  with  a  kind 
of  self-assurance  which  is  often  the  precursor  of 
victory."  He  became  through  his  oratorical  ability 
the  champion  of  Orthodoxy.  "He  was  by  nature 
a  warrior  and  delighted  in  battle,"  and  in  Boston, 
whither  he  was  called  in  1826  to  be  the  pastor  of  the 
Hanover  Street  Congregational  Church,  where  he 
remained  six  years  and  a  half,  he  achieved  great 
distinction  by  his  successful  defense  and  vindica- 
tion of  evangelical  Christianity  from  the  attacks  of 
Unitarianism,  through  which  the  tide  of  unbelief 
was  stayed  and  large  gains  were  made  by  revivals 
of  great  power  to  the  ranks  of  the  orthodox  faith. 
Wendell  Phillips  was  one  of  his  converts.  "I  was 
made  for  action,"  he  said,  "the  Lord  drove  me  on; 
but  I  was  ready.  I  have  always  been  going  full 
speed."  Having  such  a  father,  Henry  Ward  Beecher 
inherited  from  him  zeal  for  God's  truth  and  right- 
eousness, independence  of  mind  and  a  gift  of  convinc- 
ing speech. 

His  mother,  Roxana  Foote  Beecher,  was  no  less 
remarkable  as  a  woman  than  her  husband  among 
men.  The  testimonies  of  her  children,  Catherine, 
Harriet  and  Henry  Ward,  have  wreathed  her  char- 

327 


NINE  GREAT  PREACHERS 

acter  with  a  crown  of  womanly  virtues  that  make  it 
saintly.  She  was  an  ardent  lover  of  nature  and  good 
literature,"  of  painting  and  music.  "There  was  a 
moral  force  about  her,"  says  Mrs.  Stowe,  "a  dignity 
of  demeanor  and  an  air  of  elegance  which  produced 
a  constant  atmosphere  of  unconscious  awe  in  the 
minds  of  little  children."  She  had  also  "one  of 
those  strong,  restful  and  yet  widely  sympathetic 
natures  in  whom  all  around  seemed  to  find 
comfort  and  repose."  "She  possessed,"  says  Abbott, 
"that  peculiar  strength  which  comes  from  close  and 
intimate  communion  with  God,"  and  "her  piety 
of  spirit  and  her  placidity  of  temperament  combined 
to  give  her  an  equipoise  which  made  her  the  trusted 
counselor  of  her  husband,  on  whose  judgment  he 
depended,  and  in  whose  calm  his  own  turbulent 
spirit  found  rest."  Henry  Ward  Beecher  inherited 
from  his  mother  those  qualities  which  were  most 
characteristic  of  her  and  which  constituted  his 
social  charm.  She  died  when  he  was  but  little  more 
than  three  years  old,  but  she  remained  all  his  life  a 
potent  influence.  "No  devout  Catholic,"  he  said, 
"ever  saw  so  much  in  the  Virgin  Mary  as  I  have 
seen  in  my  mother,  who  has  been  a  presence  to  me 
ever  since  I  can  remember." 

(^  Having  such  parents,  to  whom  he  was  born  in 
Litchfield,  Conn.,  June  24,  1813,  and  brought  up  in 
the  companionship  of  sisters  and  brothers  richly 
endowed  with  native  genius,  he  derived  from  home 
and  family  the  best  and  most  inspiring  impulses.  , 
And  yet  there  was  nothing  precocious,  or  intel- 
lectually remarkable  in  him,  as  a  child  or  boy.     On 

328 


HENRY  WARD  BEECHER 

the  contrary,  he  was  rather  dull  and  backward  in  his 
studies,  and  chiefly  remarkable  for  his  love  of  fun 
and  good-natured  mischief,  his  abounding  animal 
health  and  spirits.  This  w^as  true  of  him  in  Litch- 
field and  in  Boston,  to  which  city  his  father  removed 
when  Henry  was  thirteen  years  old.;  He  was  sent 
toi^Boston's  famous  Latin  School,  the  educational 
nursery  of  so  many  distinguished  men;  he  entered 
it  soon  after  Charles  Sumner  had  left  it,  and  while 
Wendell  Phillips  was  still  in  it;  but  its  classic  atmos- 
phere and  splendid  traditions  did  not  kindle  in  him 
any  ambition  or  fondness  for  study.  It  *'w^as  to 
him  a  Sinaitic  desert."  "He  became  moody,  rest- 
less and  irritable."  In  this  condition  of  mind  he 
was  set  by  his  wise  father  to  reading  biographies  of 
great  sailors  and  naval  heroes.  From  his  reading, 
the  desire  to  go  to  sea  was  kindled  in  him.  His 
father  did  not  object,  but  advised  him  first  to  qualify 
himself  by  further  study  to  be  something  more 
than  a  common  sailor.  Henry  confessed  that  he 
aspired  to  be  a  captain  or  a  commodore,  and  that  it 
would  be  well  for  him  to  study  mathematics  and 
navigation.  So  he  consented  to  go  to  Mt.  Pleasant 
School,  near  Amherst,  where  boys  fitted  for  college, 
and  his  shrewd  father  still  hoped  in  this  way  that 
his  son  w^ould  finally  enter  the  ministry. 

At  this  school  he  found  two  teachers  that  had 
the  faculty  of  stimulating  him  to  good  work  in  study 
by  showing  him  how  to  study  and  what  benefit  he 
might  gain  from  application  to  it.  They  were  John 
E.  Lovell,  who  taught  him  elocution,  of  whom  he 
afterwards  said:  "A  better  teacher  in  his  department 

329 


NINE   GREAT  PREACHERS 

was  never  made,"  and  W.  P.  Fitzgerald,  the  teacher 
of  mathematics,  who  taught  him  to  conquer  in  study- 
ing, and  to  be  sure  of  his  ground  by  making  him 
defend  and  prove  the  correctness  of  his  solutions. 
While  at  Mt.  Pleasant  a  revival  occurred  and  he 
was  numbered  among  the  converts  and  united  with 
his  father's  church  in  Boston.  The  awakening  of 
his  mind  to  study  and  the  quickening  of  his  religious 
life  wrought  by  the  revival,  led  him  to  give  up  the 
idea  of  a  sailor's  life  and  to  turn(his  thoughts  toward 
the  ministry?^ 

In  1830,  his  eighteenth  year,  he  entered  Amherst 
College.  "To  college,"  says  Dr.  Abbott,  "he  carried 
with  him  a  nature  of  strange  contradictions.  A  mas- 
culine robustness  of  nature  mated  to  a  feminity  of 
spirit — a  habit  of  hard  work  (formed  at  Mt.  Pleas- 
ant), but  a  habit  of  working  according  to  his  own 
mood,  mot  according  to  rules  prescribed  to  him  by 
others."  This  disposition,  as  might  be  supposed, 
prevented  him  from  winning  a  high  grade  in  his  class. 
His  college  standing  is  indicated  by  his  later  remark, 
that  he  once  "stood  next  to  the  head  of  his  class, 
but  it  was  when  the  class  was  arranged  in  a  circle." 
But  though  he  gave  no  more  attention  to  the  allotted 
studies  than  was  necessary  to  enable  him  to  pass,  he 
wasj  a  diligent  reader  of  books  and  an  investigator  of 
subjects  that  interested  him,  and  he  gained  among 
his  fellow-students  a  reputation  for  uncommon  ability 
as  a  writer,  a  debater  and  public  speaker.  Among 
the  subjects  debated  was  the  question  of  the  African 
colonization  of  American  negroes.  He  was  given 
the  negative,  and  fifty  years  after  he  said:  "In  pre- 

330 


HENRY  WARD  BEECHER 

paring  that  speech,  I  prepared  for  my  whole  Hfe." 
Through  his  growing  fondness  for  pubHc  speaking 
and  the  reputation  he  thus  acquired,  he  was  repeat - 
edlyi  invited  during  his  course  to  conduct  prayer- 
meetings,  to  preach,  to  lecture  on  temperance  and 
phrenology  and  other  topics,  by  which  he  earned 
some  money  and  in  which  he  acquitted  himself  with 
growing  distinction.  In  the  winter  vacations  he 
taught  school  in  various  places  to  assist  in  his  college 
support,  and  in  every  place  was  he  forward  to  speak 
on  subjects  of  moral  reform  and  religious  duty. 
v^^During  his  college  course  at  Amherst  his  father 
was  called  to  the  Presidency  of  Lane  Theological 
Seminary,  Cincinnati,  where  Henry  entered  in  1834,  j 
at  twenty-one,  immediately  after  his  graduation 
from  college.  His  Seminary  course  was  similar  to 
his  college  course  in  its  miscellaneous  reading  and 
the  studies  given  to  topics  outside  the  prescribed 
curriculum.  From  only  one  part  of  the  regular 
seminary  work  did  he  get  much  benefit  by  devoting 
himself  to  its  study;  that  was  in  the  Bible  studies^ 
taken  under  Professor  Calvin  E.  Stowe,  who  later 
married  his  sister  Harriet.  *'By  him  he  was  led 
into  a  thorough  study  and  analysis  of  the  Bible  as  a 
body  of  truth,  instinct  with  God,  warm  with  all 
divine  and  human  sympathies,  clothed  with  language 
adapted  to  their  best  expression  and  to  be  understood 
as  similar  language  used  for  similar  ends  in  everyday 
life." 

These  studies,  especially  those  relating  to  the 
Gospels  and  the  Epistles  of  St.  Paul,  were  fruitful 
studies,  which  in  later  years  gave  to  his  preaching, 

331 


NINE   GREAT  PREACHERS 

to  a  remarkable  degree,  a  rare  insight  into  the  mind 
of  Christ  and  a  comprehensive  and  sure  grasp  of  the 
essentials  of  Christian  truth  J  To  systematic,  tech- 
nical theology  he  paid  but  little  attention,  and  he 
never  showed  much  interest  in  or  knowledge  of  it. 
In  fact  he  was  lamentably  and  discreditably  lacking 
in  his  acquaintance  with  its  definitions,  conflicting 
theories,  and  discussions.  But  his  repugnance  was 
not  without  some  justification.  He  had  grown  up 
in  an  atmosphere  of  theological  discussion  and  con- 
troversy, and  Lane  Seminary  then  was  a  veritable 
storm  center  of  theological  controversy,  between  the 
old-school  and  the  new-school  theologies.  His 
father,  who  warmly  championed  the  teachings  of 
the  new  school,  was  fiercely  assailed, — so  fiercely 
that  he  was  compelled  to  leave  his  wife's  death  bed 
to  defend  himself  before  Presbytery  and  Synod  from 
the  charge  of  heresy.  Thus  "Henry  Ward  Beecher 
learned,"  says  Dr.  Barrows,  "that  however  earnest, 
unselfish  and  consecrated  the  life  of  a  Christian 
minister,  like  his  father,  might  be,  he  was  not  safe 
from  persecution  and  deposition  from  the  ministry, 
unless  he  assented  and  conformed  to  the  literal 
teachings  of  what  he  deemed  an  irrational,  mislead- 
ing and  obsolescent  theology."  The  spectacle 
filled  him  with  perplexity  and  disgust.  He  had, 
therefore,  no  taste  for  theological  study  and  inquiry. 
He  was  not  idle,  however.  He  "taught  a  Bible 
class  of  young  ladies,  making  the  most  careful  prep- 
aration for  his  work";  for  a  time  he  acted  as  editor 
of  the  Cincinnati  Journal;  he  lectured  on  temperance; 
he   preached    as    he   found   opportunity.     But   the 

332 


HENRY  WAHD  BEECHER 

bewilderment  of  mind  produced  by  the  theological 
controversies  of  that  time  naturally  resulted  in  a 
feeling  of  uncertainty  and  mental  doubt.  The 
future  looked  dark  and  his  prospects  dubious.  Could 
he  ever  get  a  license  to  preach,  or  a  church  willing 
to  hear  him.^^  "I  must  preach  the  gospel  as  it  is 
revealed  to  me,"  he  said,  but  he  had  no  clear  reve- 
lation for  a  while  upon  which  he  could  plant  his  feet 
with  any  degree  of  assurance.  But  at  length  such 
a  revelation  came.  The^ccount  of  it  is  given  in  the 
first  chapter  of  Dr.  Lyman  Abbott's  "Henry  Ward 
Beecher,"  a  remarkably  interesting  book;  also  in 
the  seventh  chapter  of  Dr.  John  Henry  Barrows' 
valuable  biography.  A  portion  of  the  account  of 
Dr.  Abbott  we  here  give,  for  the  bearing  it  has  upon 
a  proper  understanding  of  Henry  Ward  Beecher 's 
ministry:  "\     ,  ^^^"""^^ 

"I  was  a  child,"  he  says  "of  teaching  and  prayer: 
I  was  reared  in  the  household  of  faith:  I  knew  the 
catechism  as  it  was  taught:  I  was  instructed  in  the 
Scriptures  as  they  were  expounded  from  the  pulpit 
and  read  by  men,  and  yet,  till  after  I  was  twenty- 
one  years  old,  I  groped  without  the  knowledge  of 
God  in  Christ  Jesus.  I  know  not  what  the  tablets 
of  Eternity  have  written  down,  but  I  think  that  when 
I  stand  in  Zion  and  before  God  the  brightest  thing 
I  shall  look  back  upon  will  be  that  blessed  May 
morning  when  it  pleased  God  to  reveal  to  my  won- 
dering soul  the  idea  that  it  was  His  nature  to  love 
a  man  in  his  sins  for  the  sake  of  helping  him  out  of 
them;  that  He  did  not  do  it  out  of  compliment  to 
Christ,  or  to  a  law,  or  a  plan  of  salvation,  but  from 

333 


NINE   GREAT  PREACHERS 

the  fulness  of  His  great  heart;  that  He  was  a  being 
not  made  mad  by  sin,  but  sorry;  that  He  was  not 
furious  with  wrath  toward  the  sinner,  but  pitied 
him :  In  short,  that  He  felt  toward  me  as  my  mother 
felt  toward  me,  to  whose  eyes  my  wrongdoing  brought 
tears  and  who  would  fain  with  her  yearning  love 
lift  me  out  of  my  trouble.  .  .  .  And  when  I 
found  that  Jesus  Christ  had  such  a  disposition  and 
that  when  his  disciples  did  wrong  he  drew  them  closer 
to  Him  than  He  did  before,  and  when  pride  and  jeal- 
ousy and  rivalry  and  all  vulgar  and  worldly  feelings 
rankled  in  their  bosoms.  He  opened  His  heart  unto 
them  as  a  medicine  to  heal  these  infirmities,  I  felt 
that  I  had  found  a  God.  .  .  .  Time  went 
on  and  next  came  the  disclosure  of  a  Christ  ever 
present  with  me,  a  Christ  that  was  never  far  from 
me,  but  was  always  near  me,  as  a  companion  and 
friend,  to  uphold  and  sustain  me.  This  was  the 
last  and  the  best  revelation  of  God's  spirit  to  my 
soul.  It  is  what  I  consider  to  be  the  culminating 
work  of  God's  grace  in  a  man;  and  no  man  is  a  Chris- 
tian until  he  has  experienced  it.  I  do  not  mean 
that  a  man  cannot  be  a  good  man  until  then,  but  he 
has  not  got  to  Jerusalem  till  he  has  seen  the  King 
sitting  in  his  glory,  with  love  to  him  individually." 
This  vision  colored  and  shaped  his  whole  after-life 
and  ministry.  He  regarded  it  as  an  epitome  of 
the  gospel,  as  the  sum  and  substance  of  Christianity, 
and  he  was  eager  to  proclaim  it  to  the  world.  Its 
effect  upon  him  was  like  that  wrought  upon  Luther 
by  the  heavenly  voice:  "The  just  shall  live  by  faith"; 
or  that  produced  in  John  Wesley,  when  his  burden 

334 


HENRY  WARD  BEECHER 

of  sin  rolled  off  as  he  listened  to  the  interpretation 
of  Paul's  letter  to  the  Romans  given  by  a  devout 
Moravian  at  an  Alder sgate  Street  meeting  in  London. 
He  felt  that  he  now  had  a  message,  a  real  gospel 
message  for  mankind,  and  his  heart  burned  to  tell  it. 

The  opportunity  came  in  1837,  when,  at  his  grad-  ; 
uation  from  the  seminary,  he  received  a  call  to  a 
small  Presbyterian  church  in  Lawrenceburg,  Indi- 
ana, at  a  nominal  salary  of  $400,  including  what , 
he  received  from  the  Home  Missionary  Society. 
The  church  was  composed  of  twenty  members, 
nineteen  women  and  one  (poor  stick  of  a)  man. 
He  served  it  two  years,  performing  the  duties  of 
both  preacher  and  sexton.  He  says:  "I  swept  the 
church  and  lighted  my  own  fire.  I  took  care  of 
everything  connected  with  the  building."  Upon 
this  meager  salary  he  ventured  to  marry.  The 
young  man  and  his  wife  began  housekeeping  in  two 
rooms  over  a  stable,  furnished  with  borrowed  fur- 
niture. Surely  no  minister  ever  made  a  humbler 
beginning!  He  entered  upon  his  work  with  some 
definite  ideas  as  to  the  conditions  of  success.  In  his 
journal  these  entries  are  found:  "Remember  you 
can  gain  men  easily  if  you  get  round  their  prejudices 
and  put  truth  in  their  minds;  but  never  if  you  attack 
prejudices."  "My  people  must  be  alert  to  make 
the  church  agreeable,  to  give  seats  and  wait  on 
strangers.''  ''Secure  a  large  congregation;  let  this  be 
the  first  thing." 

The  young  minister  made  a  favorable  impression 
at  the  very  start  by  his  genial  sociability  and  friend- 
liness  and   his  good   sermons,   so   that   the   "large 

335 


NINE   GREAT  PREACHERS 

congregation" — as  large  as  the  little  church  could 
hold — which  he  had  deemed  as  of  first  importance, 
was  soon  secured. 

Of  his  preaching  he  says:  "I  preached  some  theo- 
logy; as  a  man  chops  straw  and  mixes  it  with  Indian 
meal  in  order  to  distend  the  stomach  of  the  ox  that 
eats  it,  so  I  chopped  a  little  of  the  regular  orthodox 
theology  [picked  up  while  in  the  seminary  and  in 
the  discussions  at  home  with  his  father]  that  I 
might  sprinkle  it  with  the  meal  of  the  Lord  Jesus 
Christ.  But  my  horizon  grew  larger  and  larger 
in  that  one  idea  of  Christ." 

As  his  horizon  of  truth  enlarged  his  field  of  influ- 
ence widened.  In  1839  he  was  called  to  the  Second 
Presbyterian  Church,  Indianapolis,  at  a  salary  of 
$600;  which  call,  after  twice  declining  it,  he  at 
length  accepted  at  the  request  of  the  synod.  Indi- 
anapolis then  had  a  population  of  only  4000,  and 
its  distinguishing  features,  Dr.  Barrows  says,  were 
"mud  and  malaria."  It  possessed  all  the  crudeness 
and  ugliness  of  ai  new  Western  town.  Hogs  and  pigs 
ran  at  will  in  its  streets,  or  wallowed  in  the  muddy 
pools.  "With  the  exception  of  two  or  three  streets," 
he  says,  "there  were  no  ways  along  which  could  not 
be  seen  the  original  stumps  of  the  forests.  I  bumped 
against  them  too  often  in  a  buggy  not  to  be  sure  of 
the  fact." 

Here,  as  at  Lawrenceburg,  a  large  congregation 
equal  to  the  utmost  capacity  of  the  new  church 
erected  for  it,  was  soon  gathered.  His  originality, 
his  freshness  of  presentation  of  gospel  truth  and  his 
personal   magnetism  charmed  all   who  heard  him. 

336 


HENRY  WARD  BEECHER 

Dr.  Abbott  says:  *'From  the  first  his  church  was  a 
church  of  strangers.  The  members  of  the  legisla- 
ture attended  it  almost  in  a  body.  His  presentation 
of  God  as  a  Father  of  infinite  compassion,  whose 
character  is  revealed  in  the  earthly  life  of  Jesus 
Christ,  was,  in  that  time  and  place,  extraordinarily 
novel.  Men  knew  not  what  to  make  of  it  and  curi- 
osity commingled  with  higher  motives  to  attract 
audiences  eager  to  hear  this  strange  gospel."  "Here 
I  preached  my  first  real  sermon,"  he  says.  He 
means  that  not  till  then  did  he  have  a  true  idea  of 
the  aim  and  purpose  of  a  sermon,  or  did  he  know  how 
to  adopt  his  gospel,  "the  Gospel  of  Christ  as  he  had 
learned  it  from  a  careful  study  of  the  Evangelists 
and  as  it  had  been  burned  into  his  soul  by  the  heat 
of  a  great  experience,"  to  the  various  needs  of  men. 
The  true  idea  of  a  sermon  he  saw  was  this:  It  is  a 
means  to  an  end,  and  everything  in  it — text,  exposi- 
tion, argument,  illustrations — all  are  to  bear  upon 
this  definite  end.  "How  to  adapt  his  truth  to  his 
hearers  was  a  discovery  made  by  a  careful  study  of 
the  teaching  and  practice  of  the  Apostles,  and 
especially  the  Apostle  Paul.  He  learned,  as  John 
Knox  and  Jonathan  Edwards  had  done  before  him, 
that  they  laid  "a  foundation  first  of  historical  truth 
common  to  them  and  their  auditors;  that  this  mass 
of  familiar  truth  was  then  concentrated  upon  the 
hearers  in,  the  form  of  an  intense  application  and 
appeal;  that  the  language  was  not  philosophical 
and  scholastic,  but  the  language  of  common  life." 
He  tried  this  method  and  it  met  with  immediate 
success,  which  filled  him  with  joy.     "I  owe  more  to 

22  337 


NINE   GREAT  PREACHERS 

the  Book  of  Acts  and  the  writings  of  the  Apostle 
Paul  than  to  all  other  books  put  together,"  he  said. 
These  principles  which  he  speaks  of  are  axiomatic 
in  Homiletics.  We  see  them  exemplified  in  the 
preaching  of  Jonathan  Edwards,  Robertson  and 
McLaren,  as  well  as  in  that  of  Beecher.  From  the 
application  made  of  them,  great  success  attended 
his  ministry  in  Indianapolis.  His  preaching  in 
those  eight  years  was  especially  evangelistic  in  char- 
acter, and  large  revivals  resulted  from  it,  his  church 
increasing  eightfold.  With  great  joy  and  wonder 
he  witnessed  the  work.  "He  stands  upon  the  shore 
to  see  the  tide  come  in.  It  is  the  move  of  the  infinite 
ethereal  tide.     It  is  from  the  other  world." 

He  took  particular  interest  in  young  men  and  they 
responded  to  his  interest.  His  church  was  full  of 
them,  and  for  their  sakes  he  prepared  a  series  of 
"Lectures  to  Young  Men,"  which  became  famous 
and  were  republished  in  England.  The  pictures  of 
vice  and  sin,  which  he  portrayed  in  these  lectures^ 
are  most  graphic,  not  to  say  realistic.  The  denun- 
ciations poured  out  upon  the  sins  depicted  were 
scathing  and  terrible,  so  terrible  that  once  a  man, 
who  thought  that  he  was  particularly  aimed  at, 
met  him  on  the  street  with  pistol  in  hand  and  said: 
"Take  it  back  right  here  or  I  will  shoot  you  on  the 
spot."  "Shoot  away,"  Beecher  replied  and  coolly 
walked  on,  to  the  bully's  discomfiture. 

He  steadily  grew  in  preaching  power.  His  style 
in  those  days  was  pictorial,  concrete,  more  florid 
than  in  later  years.  But  his  illustrations,  which 
were    profuse,    were    original    and    ever   fresh.     He 

338 


HENRY  WARD  BEECHER 

never  repeated  one.  His  store  was  inexhaustible, 
gathered  from  all  fields,  nature,  science,  history, 
literature  and  the  occupations  of  men,  and  his  appli- 
cation of  them  was  most  apt  and  striking.  His 
reputation  for  eloquence  spread  throughout  the 
land,  and  calls  were  extended  to  him  from  the  Park 
Street  Church,  Boston,  and  the  newly  organized 
^Plymouth  Church,  Brooklyn.  The  latter,  after 
some  considerable  hesitation,  he  accepted  for  the 
sake  of  his  invalid  wife,  whose  health  the  malarial 
atmosphere  of  Indianapolis  had  greatly  shattered.  J 

On  the  journey  east,  Mr.  Beecher,  then  thirty- 
six  years  of  age,  but  appearing  younger,  was  very 
attentive  to  his  wan  and  sad-faced  wife.  An  old 
lady,  whose  compassion  was  touched  by  her  miser- 
able countenance,  said  to  her,  encouragingly,  while 
he  was  gone  to  procure  something  for  her  refresh- 
ment and  comfort  at  a  halting  place,  "Cheer  up, 
my  dear  madam.  Whatever  may  be  your  trial, 
you  have  cause  for  great  thankfulness  to  God,  who 
has  given  you  such  a  kind  and  attentive  son." 

The  change  happily  restored  her  to  health,  and 
she  survived  him  several  years.  His  ministry  to 
Plymouth  Church,  Brooklyn  (October  10,  1847  to 
March  8,  1887)  covered  a  period  of  nearly  forty 
years.  An  infant  enterprise  of  twenty-one  members 
when  he  came  to  it,  it  became  under  his  ministry, 
the  largest  and  the  most  notable  church  in  the  land, 
conspicuous  not  only  for  its  size,  but  for  its  splendid 
munificence  in  charity  and  great  achievements  in 
every  form  of  Christian  enterprise.  It  is  numbered 
among  those  few  historical  churches  in  our  country 

339 


NINE   GREAT  PREACHERS 

that  have  gained  a  world-wide  reputation,  due 
chiefly  to  the  eclat  and  success  of  the  work  of  their 
ministers. 

The  ministry  may  be  thought  of  as  a  kind  of  busi- 
ness, great  in  its  aims  and  difficult  of  accomplish- 
ment. What  were  Mr.  Beecher's  personal  equipment 
and  spiritual  capital  for  the  important  business 
now  entered  upon  in  which  he  was  to  achieve  such 
splendid  success  .^^ 

(1)  A  magnificent  ^physique  with  ^perfect  health. 
Dr.  Barrows  speaks  of  his  "enormous  physical 
vitality."  Fowler,  the  phrenologist,  called  him  *'a 
splendid  animal,"  and  Dr.  Abbott  says,  "vigor  of 
health  was  characteristic  of  him  all  his  life.  He 
had  a  good  digestion  and  an  excellent  nervous  sys- 
tem." He  inherited  this  fine  strong  physique  from 
his  paternal  ancestors,  two  of  whom  had  been  black- 
smiths strong  enough  to  pick  up  a  barrel  of  cider 
and  drink  from  its  bunghole.  Having  such  an  inher- 
itance he  took  good  care  of  it.  He  was  temperate  in 
diet  and  studied  to  take  such  food  as  was  suited  to 
his  particular  needs.  He  took  daily  outdoor  exercise 
and  was  always  a  sound  sleeper,  and  had  the  faculty 
of  "throwing  off  cares  and  anxieties,  whether  they 
belonged  to  him  or  others,  when  he  believed  that 
further  carrying  them  would  do  no  good." 

(2)  He  had  had  a  unique  preparation  or  appren- 
ticeship for  his  business.  In  this  apprenticeship 
were  included  not  only  the  ten  years  spent  in  Law- 
renceburg  and  Indianapolis,  with  their  varied  expe- 
riences of  life  as  then  existing  in  those  new  Western 
towns,    in    editing    horticultural    and    floricultural 

340 


HENRY  WARD  BEECHER 

journals,  and  in  lecturing,  but  the  years  of  his 
seminary  and  college  life,  with  their  miscellaneous 
reading  and  atmosphere  of  theological  discussion 
and  doubts  and  perplexities,  ending  in  the  extra- 
ordinary spiritual  visions  of  God  and  of  Christ  which 
had  filled  him  with  eagerness  to  tell  men  what  he 
had  seen  and  proved.  In  that  varied  experience  and 
strenuous  life  his  mental  and  spiritual  powers  had 
been  wonderfully  developed,  and  he  had  learned  how 
to  use  and  profit  by  them. 

(3)  Extraordinary  "power  of  expression.  Whatever 
aids  expression — imagination,  feeling,  oratorical  abil- 
ity— w^as  his  in  largest  measure.  Charles  Kingsley, 
hearing  him  some  years  later  when  in  the  maturity 
of  his  strength  and  preaching  power,  said:  "Mr. 
Beecher  has  said  the  very  things  I  have  been  trying 
to  say  ever  since  I  entered  the  Christian  pulpit." 
No  thought,  however  profound,  delicate,  elusive, 
grand  or  beautiful  surpassed  his  power  of  expression. 
It  was  equal  to  the  clear  and  impressive  utterance 
of  whatever  might  come  into  his  mind  or  stir  his 
heart.  "It  is  his  transcendent  gifts  of  expression, 
his  diction,"  says  Dr.  Brastow,  "that  has  won  for  him 
the  title,  'The  Shakespeare  of  the  Modern  Pulpit.' 
His  nimbleness  and  fertility  of  mind,  vividness  of 
imagination  and  passionate  intensity  of  feeling  were 
all  tributary  to  this  linguistic  faculty.  He  was  an 
artist  in  speech.  His  diction  is  a  distinct  gift  and  he 
cultivated  it  with  ceaseless  assiduity.  It  is  notable 
for  its  ease  and  affluence,  its  wealth  and  variety. 
It  combines  all  the  qualities  of  an  effective  pulpit 
style." 

341 


NINE  GREAT  PREACHERS 

(4)^  voice  of  remarkable  compass  and  melody,^ 
"His  voice,"  says  Dr.  Cuyler,  "was  as  sweet  as  a 
lute  and  as  loud  as  a  trumpet.  In  its  tenderest 
pathos,  that  witching  voice  touched  the  fount  of 
tears.  When  he  rose  into  impassioned  sublimity 
'they  that  heard  him  said  that  it  thundered.'" 
This  remarkable  voice  was  not  natural;  it  was  the 
result  of  careful  culture  and  training,  which  dated 
as  far  back  as  the  Mt.  Pleasant  School  of  his  boyhood, 
when  he  came  under  the  instruction  of  Professor 
John  Lovell,  whose  praise  he  never  ceased  to  speak. 
When  he  was  a  child  he  had  a  serious  defect  in  his 
speech,  which  made  it  almost  unintelligible,  so  that 
his  Aunt  Esther  said:  "When  Henry  is  sent  to  me 
with  a  message,  I  always  have  to  make  him  say  it 
three  times.  The  first  time,  I  have  no  manner  of 
an  idea,  any  more  than  if  he  spoke  Choctaw;  the 
second  I  catch  now  and  then  a  word,  and  the  third 
time  I  begin  to  understand." 

Dr.  Lovell's  training  enabled  him  to  get  the 
better  of  this  defect,  and  he  studied  continuously  to 
perfect  his  voice  and  his  mastery  of  it. 

(5)  An  extraordinary  and  peculiar  genius  to  which 
he  gave  free  play.  He  belonged  to  a  peculiar  family. 
Though  himself  the  most  richly  endowed  and  dis- 
tinguished of  them  all,  all  of  his  father's  children 
were  persons  of  mark  because  of  their  rare  natural 
gifts  and  ability.  Another  such  family,  so  richly 
endowed  and  so  eminent,  each  and  all,  can  hardly 
be  found  in  our  American  history.  There  was  in 
him  a  peculiar  personal  strain,  inherited  partly 
from  his  father  and  mother,  and  partly  original  with 

342 


HENRY  WARD  BEECHER 

himself,  which  gave  him  the  preeminence  among 
his  brethren  as  a  preacher  and  made  him  eventually 
the  prince  of  the  American  pulpit.  It  was  a  kind 
of  prophetic  capacity  for  inspiration  and  rare  spir- 
itual exaltation.  "I  am  what  I  am  by  the  grace  of 
God  through  my  father  and  mother,"  he  said. 
"I  have  my  own  peculiar  temperament;  I  have  my 
own  method  of  preaching,  I  am  intense  at  times  on 
subjects  that  deeply  move  me.  I  feel  as  though  all 
the  oceans  were  not  strong  enough  to  be  the  power 
behind  my  words.  There  are  times  when  it  is  not 
I  that  is  talking,  when  I  am  caught  up  and  carried 
away  so  that  I  know  not  whether  I  am  in  the  body 
or  out  of  the  body,  when  I  think  things  in  the  pulpit 
that  I  never  could  think  of  in  my  study,  and  when 
I  have  feelings  that  are  so  different  from  any  that 
belong  to  the  normal  condition,  that  I  can  neither 
regulate  nor  understand  them." 

It  was  through  this  peculiar  religious  genius  that 
he  sometimes  spoke  as  if  really  inspired.  "He 
seemed,"  Hon.  Andrew  D.  White  says,  *'to  have  a 
deep  insight  into  the  great  truths  of  religion  and  to 
be  able  to  present  them  to  others,  opening  up  at 
times  great  new  vistas  of  truth  by  a  single  flash." 
At  such  times  he  exhibited  a  combination  of  pulpit 
power  and  charm  scarcely  equaled  by  any  other 
preacher  of  his  day. 

(6)  'Extraordinary  fertility  of  mind.  His  mind 
was  in  itself  a  mine  of  wealth.  Its  opulence,  apart 
from  any  enrichment  it  received  from  his  studies 
and  much  reading,  w^as  marvelous.  Upon  any 
subject  that  he  touched  he  had  much  of  great  value 

343 


NINE   GREAT  PREACHERS 

to  say.  Mr.  Lincoln  spoke  of  him  as  "the  most 
productive  mind  of  ancient  or  modern  times,"  and 
Dr.  Joseph  Parker  in  his  eulogy  of  him  said:  "My 
sober  impression  is  that  Mr.  Beecher  could  preach 
every  Sunday  in  the  year  from  the  first  verse  in 
Genesis  without  giving  any  sign  of  intellectual 
exhaustion  or  any  failure  of  imaginative  force." 
Surely,  this  was  an  important  item  in  his  capital  in 
view  of  the  long  ministry  that  lay  before  him  in 
Brooklyn.  It  never  failed  him.  To  the  very  end 
he  maintained  the  interest  of  his  church  and  of  the 
Christian  public  in  his  preaching. 

(7)  A  natural  style  in  preaching.  His  ordinary 
preaching  was  in  the  conversational  style.  "In  a 
sense,"  says  Dr.  Abbott,  "every  sermon  was  a 
conversation  with  his  audience.  In  the  phrasing  of 
it,  always,  in  the  figures  employed,  often  in  the 
structure  of  it,  sometimes  the  audience  took  an  uncon- 
scious part."  His  sermons  were  unwritten,  except 
a  few  introductory  sentences,  which  served  "the 
purpose  of  shoving  him  off  into  deep  water,"  as 
McLaren  says  of  a  similar  practice  of  his  own.  His 
preaching  was  topical  rather  than  textual.  "A 
text,"  he  says,  "is  like  a  gate;  some  ministers  swing 
back  and  forth  upon  it.  I  push  it  open  and  go  in." 
His  topics,  such  as  "The  Hidden  Christ,"  "What 
Christ  is  to  Me,"  "The  Crime  of  Degrading  Men," 
were  topics  adapted  to  his  peculiar  temperament. 
He  followed  a  carefully  prepared  outline,  usually 
rapidly  sketched  Sabbath  morning.  But  those 
few  Sabbath  hours  by  no  means  represented  all  the 
work  he  put  upon  his  sermons.     They,   with  the 

344 


.HENRY  WARD  BEECHER 

time  occupied  in  delivering  his  sermon,  represented 
only  what  may  be  called  his  creative  work.  He  was 
a  constant  student  in  his  own  way.  Scores  of  his 
notebooks,  filled  with  thoughts  and  points  for  ser- 
mons, prove  this.  The  sermons  themselves,  with 
their  evidences  of  careful  study  and  extensive  survey 
of  the  fields  of  thought  treated,  prove  it.  The  fact 
is,  that  before  the  Sabbath  his  mind  was  carefully 
stored  with  the  materials  for  his  sermons,  and  these 
he  was  able,  through  his  remarkable  powers  of  con- 
centration and  productive  effort,  quickly  to  crys- 
tallize into  a  suitable  form,  or  plan,  and  vitalize  for 
effective  delivery.  He  was  unique  in  his  method 
as  well  as  his  genius,  and  is  not  a  safe  example  for 
any  other  man  except  in  the  general  spirit  of  his 
work.  It  was  "a  singular  feature  of  his  productive 
power,"  we  are  told,  "that  it  seldom  lasted  more 
than  two  or  three  hours."  But  in  those  two  or 
three  hours,  on  Sabbath  morning,  before  and  during 
the  public  service,  which  stimulated  and  exalted  his 
powers  to  the  utmost,  he  performed  wonders. 

Such  a  style  in  preaching,  unfettered,  conversa- 
tional, free  from  artificial  monotonous  declamation, 
brings  the  preacher  close  to  his  hearers,  keeps  them 
wide-awake  and  makes  the  preacher  vividly  dramatic 
as  well  as  more  genuine  and  lifelike  in  his  speech. 
It  is  the  style  of  the  best  preachers.  In  the  case  of 
Mr.  Beecher  with  his  fine  flexible  voice,  his  imagi- 
native power,  and  natural  ease  upon  the  platform, 
it  was  carried  almost  to  perfection.  As  he  warmed 
to  his  work  and  his  soul  was  kindled  to  a  blaze  by 
his  theme,  he  became  transfigured. 

345 


NINE  GREAT  PREACHERS 

(8)  Joyousness  of  spirit.  )  Mr.  Beecher  in  his 
minist^  felt  himself  to  be  a  messenger  of  good  tid- 
ings. It  was  a  natural  consequence  of  that 
wonderful  vision  in  which  God  was  revealed  to  him 
as  a  loving  father  and  Christ  as  a  potential  daily 
friend.  God  was  to  him  a  perpetual  presence;  he 
lived  in  the  sunshine  of  his  countenance;  he  walked 
in  the  companionship  of  Jesus  Christ,  and  he  believed 
and  taught  that  the  same  privilege  was  offered  to  his 
hearers.  Therefore  his  preaching  was  a  message  of 
hope  to  the  despondent,  and  of  good  cheer  to  the 
sad-hearted.  Similar  was  the  effect  of  his  public 
prayers.  These  were  as  remarkable  as  his  sermons. 
In  them  he  voiced  the  spiritual  aspirations,  the 
adoration  and  the  conscious  needs  of  his  hearers  as 
few  preachers  ever  did  or  could  do.  He  carried 
them  into  the  felt  presence  of  God,  and  their  souls 
were  purified  and  strengthened  by  the  visions  they 
had  of  his  grace  and  glory.  For  years  those  public 
prayers  were  reported  by  an  excellent  stenographer 
and  published  with  his  sermons  in  the  Christian 
Union,  Subsequently  a  selection  of  them  was 
published  in  book  form.  Dr.  Abbott  says:  "If  there 
is  any  collection  of  prayers  which  surpasses  these 
prayers  of  Mr.  Beecher  in  spiritual  eloquence,  in 
the  self-revelation  of  childlikeness  of  heart  and  fa- 
miliarity of  fellowship  with  the  Everlasting  Father, 
and  in  understanding  and  interpretation  of  the  wants, 
simple  and  complex,  superficial  and  profound,  of 
the  human  heart,  I  have  not  seen  it."  From  such 
sermons  and  prayers,  his  hearers  went  forth  from 
the  service  radiant  with  hope  and  trust.     A  gifted 

346 


HENRY  WARD  BEECHER 

lady  of  his  congregation  says  of  the  mood  in  which 
she  usually  left  Plymouth  Church:  "The  sun  was 
always  shining  for  me  whatever  the  weather.'' 

(9)  An  evangelical  passion  for  bringing  men  to  God 
through  faith  in  Christ.  Under  the  stimulous  of 
this  passion  he  was  unwearied  and  tireless  in  his 
labors.  At  one  time  in  his  ministry,  in  Indiana- 
polis, "he  preached  seventy  nights  in  succession." 
Through  the  incitement  of  it,  his  first  years  as  pastor 
of  Plymouth  Church  were  full  of  religious  activity, 
and  the  joy  of  ingathering  was  great  for  both  pastor 
and  people. 

(10)  The  last  item  I  speak  of  in  my  summary  of 
Mr.  Beecher's  equipment  for  the  great  business  of 
ministering  to  Plymouth  Church,  upon  which  he. 
entered  at  his  coming  to  Brooklyn,  was^^good  sense. 
His  genius  was  not  marred  or  crippled  by  the  pro- 
verbial eccentricities  of  genius.  Though  one  of  the 
most  brilliant  of  men,  he  was  sane,  temperate  and 
judicious  in  his  utterances.  He  had  the  mark  of  a 
wise  man,  which  the  homely  conundrum,  that  asks 
"why  such  a  man  is  like  a  pin?"  gives  in  its  answer 
to  the  question.  "Because  his  head  keeps  him 
from  going  too  far."  It  kept  him  from  going  too 
far  in  the  heated  discussion  that  arose  in  the  anti- 
slavery  agitation  preceding  the  Civil  War,  in  the 
general  anxiety  and  perplexity  over  the  policy  of 
government  during  the  war  and  in  the  debate  over 
the  settlement  of  the  question  of  the  Reconstruction 
period.  In  those  discussions  his  opinions  and 
utterances  were  those  of  a  wise  and  calm  statesman. 
Such  likewise  were  his  opinions  and  counsels  upon 

347 


NINE   GREAT  PREACHERS 

the  various  civic  and  ethical  questions  which  con- 
cern society  and  individuals. 

His  good  sense  was  manifest  also  in  his  not  ven- 
turing to  rely  too  much  upon  his  inventive  genius 
and  ready  eloquence  and  such  happy  productive 
moods  as  might  come  to  him  in  preaching.  "No 
man  can  preach  well,"  he  said,  "except  out  of  an 
abundance  of  well- wrought  material."  And  so,  as 
Dr.  Barrows  says,  "he  was  always  industriously 
filling  in  or  getting  his  accumulations  into  shape, 
vitalizing  them  with  conscious  and  unconscious 
thought." 

Having  such  an  equipment  for  his  work,  we  now 
are  to  think  of  him  entering  upon  this  great  work  at 
thirty -four  years  of  age.  Though  his  stock  of  sys- 
tematic theology  was  small,  for  reasons  that  have 
been  given,  he  knew  by  heart  what  was  most  essen- 
tial in  the  theology  of  a  preacher  and  he  knew  well 
how  to  use  it.  He  believed  that  "no  man  lives  who 
does  not  need  to  repent  of  sin  and  turn  from  it"; 
"that  turning  from  sin  is  a  work  so  deep  and  diffi- 
cult that  no  man  will  ever  change  except  by  the  help 
of  God";  that  "the  Gospel  is  the  power  of  God  unto 
salvation";  that  "in  the  person  and  work  of  Christ 
this  power  is  centered,"  and  that  "success  in  preach- 
ing depends  on  the  power  of  the  preacher  to  put 
before  men  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ." 

"The  new  preacher,"  Dr.  Abbott  says,  "at  first 
drew  but  moderate  congregations.  Not  until  after 
six  months  did  the  church  building  begin  to  fill  so  as 
to  be  crowded,  but  from  that  time  on  it  was  unable 
to  accommodate  the  congregations."     People  came 

348 


HENRY  WARD  BEECHER 

to  hear  him  from  all  parts  of  Brooklyn,  from  New 
York  on  the  other  side  of  East  River,  and  from  all 
parts  of  the  land.  For  more  than  a  quarter  of  a 
century  it  was  common  for  people  coming  to  New 
York  for  business  or  pleasure  and  spending  the  Sab- 
bath in  the  city,  to  cross  the  ferries  to  Brooklyn  to 
hear  Beecher,  and  if,  on  stepping  off  from  the  ferry- 
boat, these  strangers  asked  a  policeman  the  way  to 
Plymouth  Church,  the  answer  usually  received  was: 
"Follow  the  crowd." 

It  was  the  writer's  great  privilege  as  a  young  man 
often  to  hear  him  in  Plymouth  Church  and  to  share 
the  feelings  and  impressions  there  made  upon  the 
great  throng  by  this  remarkable  preacher  then  in 
the  zenith  of  his  power  and  fame.  I  wish  I  could 
give  my  readers  some  just  conception  of  his  elo- 
quence. But  no  description  can  convey  it.  Even 
his  sermons,  as  reported  by  the  best  of  stenographers 
can  give  but  a  most  inadequate  idea  of  it.  "The  j 
difference  between  the  sermon  as  he  preaches  it," 
Dr.  Storrs  once  truthfully  said,  "and  the  sermon  as  1 
it  is  printed  and  published  to  be  read  afterward,  is  / 
like  that  of  fireworks  as  they  appear  at  night  in  all  \ 
their  brilliance  and  glory  and  the  blackened  smoking 
framework  which  the  boys  stare  at  the  next  morn- 
ing." In  the  last  chapter  of  Dr.  Abbott's  interesting 
book,  "Henry  Ward  Beecher"  there  is  an  interesting 
and  instructive  comparison  of  Beecher's  pulpit  and 
oratorical  power  with  that  of  other  great  preachers 
and  pulpit  orators.  Dr.  Abbott  says:  "In  particular 
elements  of  charm  or  power  he  was  surpassed  by 
some;  in  combination  of  charm  and  power  by  none. 

349 


NINE   GREAT  PREACHERS 

If  the  test  of  the  oration  (or  sermon)  is  its  perfection, 
whether  of  structure  or  of  expression,  other  orators 
have  surpassed  Mr.  Beecher;  if  the  test  is  the  power 
of  the  speaker  to  impart  to  his  audience  his  life,  to 
impress  on  them  his  conviction,  animate  them  with 
his  purpose,  and  direct  their  action  to  the  accom- 
pHshment  of  his  end,  then  Mr.  Beecher  was  the 
greatest  orator  I  ever  heard;  and,  in  my  judgment, 
whether  measured  by  the  immediate  or  the  perma- 
nent effects  of  his  addresses,  takes  his  place  in  the 
rank  of  the  great  orators  of  the  world." 

The  Plymouth  Church  pastorate  of  Mr.  Beecher 
..may  be  conveniently  divided  into  three  periods : 
llihe  ante-bellum  period  with  its  intense  excitements 
growing  out  of  the  agitation  of  the  subject  of  slavery, 
in  which  Mr.  Beecher  took  a  prominent  part  as 
preacher,  platform  speaker,  and  editor;  the  period 
of  the  Civil  War,  when  his  fame  as  a  preacher  and 
orator  was  at  its  maximum;  and  the  period  covered 
by  and  following  the  Tilton  scandal  with  its  dire 
effects  upon  his  reputation  and  influence. 

Eloquence  is  dependent  upon  the  man,  the  occa- 
sion and  the  theme  of  speech.  It  is  not  enough  for 
its  highest  exhibition  that  a  man  have  all  the  gifts 
and  accomplishments  of  the  orator  to  the  highest 
degree.  There  must  be  worthy  occasions  and  topics 
to  stimulate  the  man  to  the  utmost.  Slavery  and 
its  aggressions  and  wrongs  furnished  Mr.  Beecher 
these  occasions  and  topics.  From  the  time  he  went 
to  Brooklyn  to  the  outbreak  of  the  Civil  War,  the 
atmosphere  of  our  country  was  heated  and  stifling 
and   reverberant   with   the   signs   of   the   gathering 

350 


HENRY  WARD  BEECHER 

tempest.  Beecher's  whole  soul  with  all  his  magnifi- 
cent powers  of  conscience  and  love  of  righteousness, 
hatred  of  wTong,  imaginative  sympathy  and  generous 
sensibilities,  were  stirred  and  enlisted  in  the  conflict 
of  opinion.  He  was  irresistible  in  his  advocacy  of 
the  cause  of  the  slave  and  in  his  plea  for  his  eman- 
cipation. Even  those  who  supported  slavery  and 
were  strongly  biased  by  its  commercial  interests 
were  subdued  to  better  sentiments  when  they  came 
under  the  spell  of  his  eloquence.  Dr.  Abbott  gives 
this  striking  instance:  *'It  is  1858.  A  Southern 
slaveholder  is  at  my  side.  The  preacher  has  declared, 
as  he  often  did,  that  he  has  no  will  to  interfere  with 
slavery  in  the  States.  No  wish  to  stir  up  insurrec- 
tion and  discontent  in  the  slave.  But  he  will  not 
obey  the  Fugitive  Slave  Law.  Thereupon  he  pic- 
tures the  discontented  slave  escaping,  portrays  him 
stealthily  creeping  out  from  his  log  cabin  at  night; 
seeking  a  shelter  in  the  swamp,  feeding  on  its  roots 
and  berries,  pursued  by  baying  bloodhounds; 
making  his  way  toward  liberty,  the  north  star  his 
only  guide;  reaching  the  banks  of  the  Ohio  river; 
crossing  it  to  find  the  Fugitive  Slave  Law  spread 
like  a  net  to  catch  him.  And  I  see  the  fugitive,  and 
hear  the  hounds  and  my  own  heart  beats  with  his 
hopes  and  fears;  and  then  the  preacher  cries:  *Has 
he  a  right  to  flee.^  If  he  were  my  son  and  did  not 
seek  liberty  I  would  write  across  his  name  *  Dis- 
owned,' "  and  he  writes  it  with  his  finger  as  he 
speaks,  and  I  see  the  letters  of  flaming  fire;  and  the 
slaveholder  at  my  side  catches  his  breath  while  he 
nods  an  involuntary  assent;     and  as  we  walk  out 

351 


NINE   GREAT  PREACHERS 

together  he  says:  "I  could  not  agree  with  all  he  said, 
but  it  was  great,  and  he  is  a  good  man." 

The  second  period  in  Mr.  Beecher's  Brooklyn 
pastorate,  that  of  the  Civil  War,  was  marked  by  two 
extraordinary  efforts :  He  first  endeavored  by  tongue 
and  pen  to  bring  public  opinion  up  to  the  point  of 
demanding  the  abolishment  of  slavery,  which  was 
done  by  President  Lincoln's  Emancipation  Procla- 
mation of  January,  1863.  To  us  at  this  distance,  it 
does  not  seem  possible  that  this  could  have  required 
any  extraordinary  effort.  Had  not  slavery  caused 
the  war  with  all  its  cost  of  blood  and  treasure?  Was 
it  anything  other  than  a  just  retribution  upon  the 
Confederate  States  in  rebellion,  to  destroy  the  hate- 
ful institution  that  had  wrought  such  mischief.'^ 
Furthermore,  it  was  demanded  as  a  wise  war  meas- 
ure. As  long  as  the  President  stayed  his  hand  from 
signing  the  proclamation  that  set  the  slaves  free, 
those  slaves  were  made  the  unwilling  but  valuable 
helpers  of  the  rebellion.  They  tilled  the  fields  and 
raised  the  crops  that  supported  its  armies  in  the 
field.  They  were  their  body  servants  and  teamsters 
and  the  custodians  of  their  homes,  while  their  masters 
were  battling  at  the  front  to  resist  and  destroy  the 
United  States  government.  Strike  off  their  fetters 
and  proclaim  their  freedom  and  they  would  become 
the  government's  helpers,  reinforce  its  armies  and 
otherwise  render  it  invaluable  service. 

But  these  considerations,  so  obvious  to  us  now, 
were  strangely  inoperative  then.  The  Union  states- 
men and  the  President  himself  were  slow  to  perceive 
their   force   and    act   accordingly.     It   required   an 

352 


HENRY  WARD  BEECHER 

immense  volum^e  of  argument  and  a  flood  of  eloquent 
exhortation  from  those  who  appreciated  the  situa- 
tion to  bring  about  the  decree  of  liberty  to  the  slave. 
And  Beecher  was  foremost  among  those  whose 
voices  pleaded  for  it,  and  at  length  prevailed. 

The  second  extraordinary  effort  was  put  forth  by 
Mr.  Beecher  while  visiting  England  for  needed  rest 
in  the  fall  of  1863,  in  the  endeavor  to  create  there  a 
sentiment  favorable  to  the  North,  to  counteract  the 
influence  of  Confederate  emissaries  and  the  English 
aristocracy  in  behalf  of  the  South.  This  influence 
had  become  so  powerful  that  the  English  government 
was  more  than  half  inclined  to  join  Louis  Napoleon, 
the  French  Emperor,  in  an  act  of  forcible  interven- 
tion for  the  recognition  of  the  Confederate  States. 
It  wavered,  because  the  English  common  people  as 
distinguished  from  the  higher  classes,  sympathized 
with  the  North.  But  the  sufferings  of  the  common 
people,  produced  by  our  great  war  through  the  sus- 
pension or  stagnation  of  the  great  industries  by 
which  they  earned  their  support,  were  chillingly 
discouraging  these  sympathies  as  year  after  year 
went  by  without  ending  the  war  and  bringing  them 
relief.  When  Beecher  arrived  there,  on  his  way 
home  after  some  weeks  of  recuperation  and  rest  on 
the  continent,  the  American  cause  was  wavering  in 
the  balance;  the  critical  moment,  in  fact,  had  come, 
and  he  was  importuned  by  the  friends  of  our  country 
to  speak  on  the  issues  of  the  war.  Their  entreaties 
prevailed,  though  he  had  thrice  before  refused,  in 
the  belief  that  any  effort  he  might  make  would 
prove  vain,  and  arrangements  were  made  for  a  series 

23  353 


NINE   GREAT  PREACHERS 

of  speeches  at  Manchester,  Glasgow,  Edinburgh, 
Liverpool  and  London. 

No  sooner  was  the  announcement  made  than  the 
Rebel  sympathizers  planned  to  thwart  his  purpose 
and  prevent  his  being  heard  by  vociferous  interrup- 
tions and  noise,  by  capturing,  in  short,  the  meetings 
advertized  and  turning  them  to  their  own  advantage. 
"So  long  as  physical  violence  is  not  resorted  to,"  says 
Abbott,  "this  sort  of  tactics  seems  to  be  treated  in 
England  as  a  legitimate  part  of  the  game."  Blood- 
red  placards  were  posted  in  the  streets  of  the  cities 
where  he  was  to  speak.  They  called  upon  the  mob 
to  prevent  his  speaking  by  misreporting  his  past 
utterances  and  by  gross  libels  of  his  character  and 
purpose.  No  wonder  that  he  was  in  an  agony  of 
depression  before  he  entered  upon  his  task  and  spent 
most  of  the  morning  on  his  knees.  Like  Jacob  he 
wrestled  with  God,  and  like  him  he  prevailed,  so 
that  before  going  to  the  meeting  in  Manchester  "a 
great  sense  of  repose"  was  given  him.  We  will  not 
undertake  to  describe  each  meeting  nor  is  it  neces- 
sary. He  encountered  a  similar  experience  in  them 
all.  "It  was  like  talking  to  a  storm  at  sea,"  he 
says  of  his  address  at  Manchester;  and  of  his  address 
at  Liverpool,  where  the  uproar  was  greatest  and 
most  prolonged,  where  for  an  hour  and  a  half  he 
fought  the  mob  before  he  got  control,  "I  sometimes 
felt,"  he  says,  "like  a  shipmaster  attempting  to 
preach  on  board  of  a  ship  through  a  speaking 
trumpet,  with  a  tornado  on  the  sea  and  a  mutiny 
among  the  men." 

Not  to  prolong  our  account,  suflfice  it  to  say  that 

354 


HENRY  WARD  BEECHER 

in  every  one  of  those  five  places  he  gained  the  mas- 
tery over  his  audience  by  his  wit,  his  good-natured 
patience,  his  artful  and  subduing  eloquence,  and 
compelled  them  to  hear  him.  The  addresses  were 
fully  reported  and  widely  published  by  the  English 
press.  Such  unity  pervaded  them  that  they  seemed 
like  one  connected  speech  and  they  presented  and 
vindicated  the  cause  of  the  North  so  well  that  the 
thought  of  intervention  was  abandoned.  "Prob- 
ably," says  Mark  Hopkins,  "the  world  has  seen  no 
grander  instance  of  the  ascendency  of  eloquence  and 
of  the  personal  power  of  a  single  man,  and  he  a 
foreigner,  in  the  face  of  prejudiced  and  excited 
mobs." 

When  Mr.  Beecher  returned  to  America,  he  re- 
ceived such  an  ovation  as  few  American  citizens 
ever  received  from  their  grateful  countrymen.  Well 
had  it  been  for  his  happiness  and  perhaps  for  his 
fame  if  then  he  had  died  in  the  fifty-first  year  of  his 
age.  But  for  his  purification  he  must  needs  pass 
through  a  fiery  furnace,  in  the  heat  and  anguish  of 
which  he  wished  for  death  a  thousand  times  before 
that  boon  was  granted  him.  This  brings  us  to  the 
third  notable  epoch  of  his  Brooklyn  pastorate, — 
that  covered  by  the  Tilton  scandal  and  its  dire  effects 
for  a  time  upon  his  good  name.  We  do  not  propose 
to  enter  upon  a  rehearsal  of  this  strange  and  mys- 
terious affair.  It  remains  still  an  unsolved  mystery, 
and  perhaps  always  wull  remain  so.  If  any  one  is 
curious  to  learn  all  that  is  now  known  about  it,  he 
can  turn  to  the  twelfth  chapter  of  Abbott's  book, 
or  the  fuller  account  given  by  Dr.  Barrows'  volume 

S55 


NINE   GREAT  PREACHERS 

(chapters  37-40).  The  writer's  opinion  is  that  there 
was  no  truth  in  the  charges  made  against  him.  He 
holds  this  opinion  because  of  the  published  state- 
ment of  Mr.  Wm.  A.  Beach,  Tilton's  counsel:  "I 
had  not  been  four  days  on  the  trial  before  I  was  con- 
fident that  he  was  innocent" ;  because  Judge  Neilson, 
who  presided  at  this  trial,  was  of  this  opinion; 
because  of  all  the  writer  saw  and  heard  as  a  member 
of  the  celebrated  Plymouth  Church  council  sum- 
moned to  review  the  case  after  it  had  been  passed 
upon  by  the  courts,  and  which,  after  the  fullest 
investigation,  unanimously  pronounced  him  still 
worthy  of  confidence  as  a  Christian  minister;  and 
because  his  own  church,  the  great  Plymouth  Church, 
whose  charities  and  honorable  men  are  widely 
known,  remained  steadfast  in  its  confidence,  solidly 
and  unitedly  so,  to  the  end  of  his  life.  This  could 
not  have  been  so,  and  never  is  the  case,  where  there 
is  any  good  ground  of  suspicion  that  the  minister, 
who  is  accused  of  this  particular  sin  alleged  against 
him,  is  guilty.  For  these  reasons,  and  for  the  psy- 
chological reason  that  the  writer  repeatedly  attended 
Plymouth  Church  during  that  period,  and  heard 
Mr.  Beecher's  public  prayers,  and  could  not  believe 
it  possible  for  a  man  to  pray  as  he  did  if  that  man 
were  an  immoral  man,  or  a  hypocrite — he,  therefore, 
agrees  with  Dr.  Lyman  Abbott  in  saying:  "Person- 
ally I  believe  that  future  history  will  attach  as  little 
emphasis  to  this  episode  in  the  life  of  Beecher  as 
history  now  attaches  to  analogous  imputations,  with 
far  more  to  give  them  color,  brought  against  John 
Wesley  in  his  lifetime." 

356 


HENRY  WARD  BEECHER 

What  now,  in  conclusion,  shall  we  say  of  him? 
Not  that  he  was  a  perfect  man;  he  had  unquestion- 
ably his  faults — trivial  faults,  however — faults  which 
he  himself  confessed  and  deplored  more  than  did  his 
friends;  but  they  were  the  faults  of  a  great  mariy 
whose  greatness  so  impresses  us  that  we  are  in- 
clined to  forget  or  condone  these  faults.  He  was  also 
a  large-hearted,  broad-minded,  good  man,  whose 
goodness  remains  unimpeachable  in  spite  of  the  dark 
cloud  which  for  a  while  cast  its  shadow  upon  him. 
It  is  safe  to  say  that  people  of  candor  generally 
believe  this.  Striking  evidence  of  it  is  to  be  seen 
there  in  Brooklyn,  where  he  lived  for  nearly  forty 
years  and  was  best  known.  As  the  people  filed  past 
his  coffin  in  Plymouth  Church,  "the  suggestion  was 
made,"  says  Dr.  Abbott,  "that  a  statue  should  be 
erected  by  citizens  of  Brooklyn  to  his  memory.  In 
less  than  two  weeks  after  his  death,  a  meeting  of 
citizens  was  held  to  forward  this  movement,  and  it 
was  so  largely  attended  that  many  were  unable  to 
gain  admittance  to  the  room.  The  money  for  the 
purpose  was  easily  obtained,  rather  it  should  be 
said,  was  spontaneously  offered,  and  in  June,  1891, 
the  statue,  designed  by  J.  Q.  A.  Ward,  was  erected 
in  City  Hall  Square,  facing  the  building  where  he 
had  been  put  on  trial  as  for  his  life,  and  remaining 
there  a  perpetual  witness  to  the  judgment  of  the 
citizens  of  Brooklyn  between  him  and  his  accusers." 

It  presents  a  good  likeness  of  the  man,  as  he  ap- 
peared in  his  later  years.  It  seems  appropriate  that 
it  should  stand  in  that  crowded  city  square  sur- 
rounded by  all  sorts  and  conditions  of  men,  for  whom 

357 


NINE   GREAT  PREACHERS 

his  great  heart  beat  in  sympathy.  He  was  a  man 
of  the  people  and  Hved  for  them.  One  may  easily 
imagine  those  lips  of  bronze  softening  to  flexible 
flesh  and  speaking  once  more  in  the  tones  of  that 
"witching  voice,"  which  entranced  men  so  often 
for  their  good.  The  memories  of  his  compassion  for 
the  poor  and  oppressed,  and  of  his  terrific  scorn  for 
all  unrighteous,  conscienceless  scoundrels,  whom  no 
appeal  of  weakness  or  misery  can  move  to  pity  or 
compunction,  it  is  good  for  men  to  have  revived. 
They  make  this  place  a  place  for  repentance  and  the 
beginning  of  a  new  life  to  some;  to  others  a  place  of 
gratitude  for  God's  gift  of  good  men  to  this  sin- 
stricken  earth.  Dr.  Barrows  says  rightly,  that 
Lowell's  characterization  of  Lincoln  "was  equally 
true  of  Mr.  Beecher." 

"His  was  no  lonely  mountain  peak  of  mind, 

Broad  prairie  rather,  genial,  level-lined, 
Fruitful  and  friendly  to  all  human  kind, 
Yet  also  nigh  to  heaven,  and  loved  of  loftiest  stars." 


358 


X 

PHILLIPS  BROOKS 


X 

PHILLIPS  BROOKS 
1835-1893 

In  an  interesting  comparison  of  Henry  Ward 
Beecher  and  Phillips  Brooks  as  preachers,  Dr. 
Lyman  Abbott  says:  "I  should  describe  Phillips 
Brooks  as  the  greater  preacher,  but  Mr.  Beecher 
as  the  greater  orator";  the  distinctive  function  of 
the  preacher  being,  in  his  opinion,  "the  unveiling 
of  the  invisible  world,  looking  himself  and  enabling 
others  also  to  look  upon  the  things  which  are  unseen 
and  eternal."  This  was  the  exclusive  mission  of 
Phillips  Brooks  and  in  the  fulfillment  of  this  he  is 
unsurpassed.  Dr.  Abbott  thinks,  by  any  American 
preacher.  In  this  opinion  we  agree  with  him  after 
a  careful  study  of  Brooks'  life  and  ministry. 

He  was  the  second  son,  in  a  family  of  six  boys,  of 
William  Gray  Brooks  and  Mary  Ann  Phillips.  He 
owed  much  to  his  parents,  both  of  whom  belonged 
to  the  best  and  most  distinguished  of  the  old  New 
England  families.  *'The  consummate  flower  of  nine 
generations  of  cultured  Puritan  stock,"  Dr.  Brastow 
says.  ("Representative  Modern  Preachers.")  We 
can  recall  no  public  man  of  the  last  century  who 
outranks  him  in  this  respect  of  ancestral  worth. 
A  long  line  of  ancestors,  eminent  for  piety,  culture, 
learning,   wealth  and  high  social  position,  he  was 

361 


NINE  GREAT  PREACHERS 

able  to  look  back  upon  from  both  sides  of  his  parental 
house.  It  is  an  interesting  genealogical  history  which 
is  presented  to  us  in  the  first  chapter  of  his  "Life" 
by  Professor  Allen,  his  biographer — one  replete  with 
profitable  suggestions  and  numerous  anecdotes. 

Phillips  Brooks  united  in  his  own  person  and 
character  the  most  remarkable  traits  and  qualities 
of  both  parents.  It  was  indeed  a  rich  inheritance 
which  he  derived  from  them. 

A  friend  of  Phillips  Brooks  has  given  us  the  fol- 
lowing account  of  them  and  of  what  they  each  be- 
queathed to  their  gifted  son.  "Mr.  Brooks  (the 
father)  always  gave  me  the  notion  of  a  typical 
Boston  merchant,  solid,  upright,  unimaginative, 
unemotional.  Mrs.  Brooks  gave  me  the  notion  of  a 
woman  of  an  intense  emotional  nature;  the  very 
tones  of  her  voice  vibratory  with  feeling  and  deep 
spiritual  life — the  temperament  of  genius  and  the 
saintly  character.  I  felt  that  Phillips  Brooks  owed 
to  his  father  very  much — the  businesslike  and  or- 
derly habit;  the  administrative  faculty  which  worked 
so  easily;  the  clear  logical  understanding  (combined 
with  powers  of  clear  conception  and  statement) 
that  framed  so  well  the  skeletons  of  those  sermons, 
which  the  intuitive  reason,  the  active  imagination, 
the  literary  sense,  the  spiritual  fire  (qualities  derived 
from  his  mother)  so  richly  filled  out  and  inspired 
afterwards;  9.nd  the  strong  common  sense  that  no 
fervor  of  feeling,  no  passionate  outburst  of  soul, 
could  ever  sweep  from  its  anchorage.  But  I  never 
had  a  question  that  what  made  Phillips  Brooks  a 
prophet,  a  leader,  a  power  among  men,  was  from 

362 


PHILLIPS  BROOKS 

the  Phillips  (the  mother's)  side  of  the  family.  The 
stalwart  form,  the  big  heart,  the  shapely  head,  the 
changeful  countenance,  the  voice  that  so  easily  grew 
tremulous  with  feeling,  the  eager  look  and  gesture, 
the  magnetism,  the  genius  seemed  to  me,  and  I  be- 
lieve seemed  to  him,  his  mother's.  The  father  saw 
things  as  they  were;  she  saw  things  in  vision,  ideally 
as  they  should  be.  So  Phillips  Brooks  knew  the 
facts  of  life,  seeing  with  his  father's  eyes,  and  all  the 
hopes  and  possibilities  of  life  through  the  eyes  of 
his  mother." 

His  biographer,  commenting  upon  this  fusion  of 
the  qualities  of  both  parents  in  his  personality, 
adds:  "Had  he  received  by  transmission  only  the 
outlook  of  his  father,  without  the  inspired  heroism 
of  his  mother,  he  would  not  have  risen  to  greatness. 
But,  on  the  other  hand,  had  he  inherited  from  his 
mother  alone,  he  might  have  been  known  as  an 
ardent  reformer,  not  unlike  his  kinsman  Wendell 
Phillips,  but  the  wonderful  fascination  of  his  power 
for  men  of  every  class  and  degree,  the  universal 
appeal  to  a  common  humanity,  would  have  been 
wanting." 

Phillips  Brooks  was  almost  as  fortunate  in  his 
birthplace  as  in  his  parentage.  Boston  at  that  time 
was,  more  than  now,  the  highest  seat  of  culture  and 
refinement  in  our  country.  Its  atmosphere  was 
magnetic  and  stimulating  from  the  social  and  public 
influences  generated  by  its  historic  memories,  its 
eminent  citizens,  its  civic  privileges,  its  constellation 
of  brilliant  authors,  its  enterprising  publishing 
houses,  its  superior  schools,  libraries  and  educational 

363 


NINE  GREAT  PREACHERS 

advantages,  its  distinguished  preachers  and  flourish- 
ing churches.  All  these  advantages  to  the  highest 
degree  were  enjoyed  by  Phillips  Brooks  through  the 
high  social  position  of  his  parents.  Possessed  of 
ample  means  they  lavished  upon  their  sons  every 
educational  advantage  that  could  contribute  to  their 
welfare,  besides  devoting  themselves  at  home  to  their 
happiness  and  culture.  He  was  educated  at  Boston's 
famous  Latin  School  and  at  Harvard  College,  receiv- 
ing from  the  former  excellent  instruction  and  train- 
ing in  the  principles  of  English  Composition  and 
the  Ancient  Classics,  and  at  college  having  a  taste 
for  literature  developed  which  he  gratified  by  wide 
and  diligent  reading.  He  read  with  extraordinary 
speed.  He  was  endowed,  like  Macaulay,  with  a 
marvelous  gift  of  very  rapidly  taking  in  a  printed 
page.  "His  record  as  a  student,"  his  biographer 
says,  "shows  that  he  possessed  the  capacity  for 
exact  scholarship,  but  also  that  he  had  no  ambition 
to  maintain  a  high  rank  in  his  class.  He  stood 
thirteenth  in  a  class  of  sixty-six.  He  took  his  college 
course  easily.  He  gave  the  impression  of  one  who 
was  not  obliged  to  drudge  in  order  to  master  his 
studies."  His  thorough  training,  his  quick  insight, 
his  capacity  for  mental  concentration  enabled  him  to 
perform  with  ease  and  speed  the  required  task, 
leaving  him  abundant  leisure  for  discursive  reading, 
the  mastery  of  books,  and  the  observation  of  life." 
"He  gave  no  sign  of  being  an  orator.  When  he 
became  known  in  after  years  as  a  pulpit  orator, 
those  who  remembered  him  in  his  college  days  were 
surprised."     But  he  disclosed  in  those  college  days 

364 


PHILLIPS  BROOKS 

uncommon  ability  as  a  writer.  "In  the  occasional 
papers  (presented  to  'The  Hasty  Pudding'  and  the 
A.  A.  4>.  college  societies  of  which  he  was  a  member), 
where  he  chose  his  own  subject  and  was  in  sympathy 
with  his  audience,  free  to  give  full  expression  to 
his  thought,  his  wit,  or  humor,  he  was  unsurpassed." 
Having  thus  sketched  his  mental  development, 
it  remains  to  speak  of  his  spiritual  and  religious  devel- ' 
opment.  His  mother  w^as  his  first  and  most  impor- 
tant religious  teacher.  "Phillips  Brooks'  mother," 
says  Dr.  W.  N.  Clarke,  "was  one  of  the  most  reli- 
gious of  the  religious,  intense,  conscientious,  self- 
sacrificing,  rapturous.  Few  men  have  ever  known 
such  mother-love  as  embraced  this  son  so  long  as 
his  mother  lived."  She  was  a  woman  of  extraordi- 
nary piety.  She  possessed  all  the  fervor  of  a  primi- 
tive Methodist,  united  with  the  intelligence  and 
keen  spiritual  perception  of  the  descendant  of  a 
long  line  of  the  most  learned  of  the  New  England 
divines.  "She  had  a  deep  interior  life  of  the  soul 
whose  phases  were  more  real  and  vital  than  the 
phenomena  of  the  passing  world.  Religion  to  her 
was  a  life  in  Christ,  and  her  love  for  Christ  and  his 
truth  was  a  passion.  She  was  a  diligent  student 
of  the  Bible  and  its  teaching,  that  she  might  better 
teach  her  children.  In  this  task  of  teaching  her 
children  religion  she  was  diligent  and  indefatigable, 
laboring  with  a  concentrated  purpose  in  season 
and  out  of  season,  never  for  a  moment  forgetful  of 
her  mission,  quick  to  seize  the  passing  moment 
which  seemed  fertile  for  opportunity,  but  withal 
gentle  and  alluring  and  making  religion  attractive." 

365 


NINE  GREAT  PREACHERS 

She  showed  remarkable  wisdom  in  her  religious 
teaching  and  effort  to  win  her  sons  one  by  one  to 
a  personal  self-commitment  to  the  Christian  life. 
**She  studied  her  opportunities  of  approach  to  the 
soul,"  Professor  Allen  says.  She  knew  when  to 
speak  and  when  to  keep  silent,  careful  not  to  press 
them,  in  her  zeal,  to  the  point  of  disgust  and  repul- 
sion of  the  subject  which  she  was  so  earnest  to  have 
them  consider.  To  an  anxious  mother  she  once  said, 
"There  is  an  age  when  it  is  not  well  to  follow  or 
question  your  boy  too  closely.  Up  to  that  time 
you  may  carefully  instruct  and  direct  him;  as  you 
are  his  best  friend.  He  is  never  happy  unless  the 
story  of  the  day  has  been  told ;  you  must  hear  about 
his  friends,  his  school;  all  that  interests  him  must 
be  your  interest.  Suddenly  these  confidences  cease; 
the  affectionate  son  becomes  reserved  and  silent; 
he  seeks  the  intimate  friendship  of  other  lads;  he 
goes  out;  he  is  averse  to  telling  where  he  is  going  or 
how  long  he  will  be  gone.  He  comes  in  and  goes 
silently  to  his  room.  All  this  is  a  startling  change 
to  the  mother;  but  it  is  also  her  opportunity  to 
practice  wisdom  by  loving  and  praying  for  and 
absolutely  trusting  her  son.  The  faithful  instruc- 
tion and  careful  training  during  his  early  years  the 
son  can  never  forget.  Therefore  trust  not  only  your 
heavenly  Father,  but  your  son.  The  period  of 
which  I  speak  appears  to  me  to  be  one  in  which  the 
boy  dies  and  the  man  is  born;  his  individuality 
rises  up  before  him,  and  he  is  dazed  and  almost 
overwhelmed  by  his  first  consciousness  of  himself. 
I  have  always  believed  that  it  was  then  that  the 

366 


PHILLIPS  BROOKS 

Creator  was  speaking  with  my  sons,  and  that  it 
was  good  for  their  souls  to  be  left  alone  with  him, 
while  I,  their  mother,  stood  trembling,  praying  and 
waiting,  knowing  that  when  the  man  was  developed 
from  the  boy  I  should  have  my  sons  again  and  there 
would  be  a  deeper  sympathy  than  ever  between  us." 

Happily  her  efforts  were  w^armly  assisted  by  her 
husband  and  her  pastor,  Dr.  A.  H.  Vinton,  the 
minister  of  St.  Paul's  Episcopal  Church,  Boston, 
which  they  made  their  religious  home  when  Phillips 
was  four  years  old,  they  having  previously  attended 
the  First  Church  (Unitarian). 

Upon  his  graduation  from  Harvard,  Phillips 
Brooks,  then  not  twenty  years  old,  obtained  the 
appointment  of  usher,  or  subordinate  teacher,  in 
the  Boston  Latin  School.  He  had  not  made  any 
public  profession  of  religion  then  and  had  no  inclina- 
tion to  become  a  preacher  of  the  gospel.  His  plan 
was,  after  gaining  some  experience  in  teaching  in 
the  Latin  School,  to  go  abroad  for  further  study  and 
fit  himself  for  a  college  professorship.  But  "though 
man  proposes  God  disposes":  never  was  there  a 
more  striking  example  of  this  truth.  His  experi- 
ment in  teaching  proved  an  utter  and  most  humiliat- 
ing failure,  and  he  resigned  his  position  in  a  few 
months.  The  cause  of  his  failure  was  his  inability 
to  maintain  good  order  among  the  unruly,  rowdyish 
set  of  boys  placed  under  him.  He  was  made  of  too 
gentle  stuff  to  cope  successfully  with  those  turbulent 
spirits. 

After  a  season  of  uncertainty  and  bewilderment 
he  turned  his  thoughts  to  the  Christian  ministry, 

367 


NINE  GREAT  PREACHERS 

and  entered  the  Episcopal  Theological  School  in 
Alexandria,  Va.,  not  yet  having  received  confirma- 
tion, by  which  in  the  Episcopal  Church  its  adherents 
publicly  profess  their  faith.  This  act  was  delayed 
until  the  close  of  his  first  year  in  the  seminary,  in- 
dicating how  abruptly  he  had  entered  upon  his 
studies  for  the  ministry.  He  apparently  fled  (se- 
cretly) to  the  seminary  to  hide  his  shame.  But 
though  he  had  made  no  public  profession  of  faith, 
we  have  a  signal  proof  that  he  was  not  without 
faith,  in  the  words  preserved  for  us  by  Professor 
Allen,  "with  which  he  closed  the  record  of  his 
thoughts  on  the  eve  of  his  departure  for  Virginia": 

'^As  we  pass  from  some  experience  to  some  experi- 
ment, from  a  tried  to  an  untried  life,  it  is  as  when  we 
turn  to  a  new  page  in  a  book  we  have  never  read  before, 
but  whose  author  we  know  and  love  and  trust  to  give 
us  on  every  page  words  of  counsel  and  purity  and 
strengthening  virtue.'^ 

He  did  not  find  the  Theological  School  pleasant 
or  satisfactory.  It  was  a  poor,  ill-furnished,  meagerly 
equipped  institution.  Writing  to  his  father  soon 
after  his  arrival  he  said:  'Tt  is  the  most  shiftless, 
slipshod  place  I  ever  saw.  The  instruction  here  is 
very  poor.  All  that  we  get  in  the  lecture  and  recita- 
tion-rooms I  consider  worth  just  nothing."  There 
was  on  the  Faculty  only  one  man  of  mark  and  ability 
in  teaching.  Dr.  Sparrow,  and  he  "so  out  of  health 
that  we  seldom  see  him  and  when  we  do  he  is  too 
unwell  to  exert  himself  at  all."  The  library  he 
describes  as  "worth  just  nothing  at  all,  pretty  much 
like  all  the  rest  of  the  seminary,  which  seems  poorer 

368 


PHILLIPS  BROOKS 

and  poorer  to  me  every  day."  Finally  he  says  near 
the  end  of  the  first  year:  "I  have  serious  doubts 
whether  it  will  be  worth  while  for  me  to  come  back 
here  for  two  more  years,  whether  it  won't  be  better 
to  study  at  home,  if  this  is  really  the  best  seminary 
in  the  country."  He  would  have  found  Andover  a 
far  better  seminary,  where  was  a  staff  of  very  able 
theological  instructors  and  a  kind  of  teaching  vastly 
superior;  and  near  the  end  of  the  year  he  writes 
to  his  father:  "I  am  thinking  strongly  of  Andover, 
please  let  me  know  what  you  think  of  it."  For  some 
inexplicable  reason  he  did  not  go  to  Andover,  which, 
in  addition  to  its  strong  Faculty,  on  which  were 
Professors  Park,  Phelps,  and  Shedd,  then  in  their 
meridian  glory,  and  a  well-furnished  library  and  other 
inviting  conveniences,  possessed  the  additional  rec- 
ommendation of  having  been  established  and  en- 
dowed by  his  maternal  ancestors. 

The  scheme  was  not  favored  it  seems  by  his  pastor, 
Dr.  Vinton,  or  his  father,  and  probably  it  was  quite 
as  well  for  him  to  stay  in  Alexandria.  The  defects 
in  his  seminary  curriculum  and  teaching,  says  his 
biographer,  "forced  him  to  work  for  himself,  to  take 
his  theological  education  in  a  measure  into  his  own 
hand,"  and  this  self -education  proved  better  in  his 
case  probably  than  the  best  teaching  he  could  have 
received  from  the  ablest  theological  faculty.  It 
begot  in  him  independence  of  mind  and  habits  of 
solitary  thought  and  study,  of  free  investigation 
and  diligent  reading  that  were  of  the  greatest  value. 

The  students  of  the  seminary  also,  in  the  lack  of 
competent  teachers,  gave  to  themselves  a  teaching 

24  369 


NINE  GREAT  PREACHERS 

and  drill  in  their  clubs  and  societies  that  was  in  some 
respects  superior  to  anything  they  could  have  found 
in  the  classroom  or  private  instruction  of  the  best 
professor.  They  criticized  one  another  with  a 
freedom  and  justice  and  wholesome  severity  which 
would  have  been  called  harsh  and  cruel  in  him. 
Two  examples  are  given  in  Professor  Allen's  life  of 
Brooks:  There  was  among  the  students  a  young 
man  of  sonorous  voice  and  showy  physique,  but 
meagre  attainments,  who  met  with  small  success 
in  his  essays  at  preaching.  He  asked,  "why,  with 
his  fine  presence  and  striking  elocution,  he  made  no 
better  impression  as  a  preacher .f^"  "Why,"  an- 
swered a  classmate,  "you  don't  know  enough.  You 
don't  study  enough.  You  are  too  noisy.  Perhaps 
if  you'd  take  more  load  on  your  cart,  it  would  not 
rattle  so." 

Another  example  is  one  where  a  sermon  of  Brooks 
himself  was  the  subject  of  criticism.  It  was  his 
first  sermon,  on  the  text,  "The  simplicity  that  is  in 
Christ,"  2  Cor.  11:3.  "A  cruel  classmate's  criti- 
cism," he  says,  "was  that  there  was  very  little  sim- 
plicity in  the  sermon  and  no  Christ."  He  adds,  "The 
sermon  was  never  preached  again.  It  was  an  at- 
tempt to  define  doctrine  instead  of  to  show  a  man, 
a  God,  a  Savior." 

By  his  professors  and  fellow  students  Mr.  Brooks 
was  quickly  recognized  as  a  star  of  first  magnitude. 
"As  a  classical  scholar,"  .says  a  classmate,  "none 
matched  him.  The  Greek  of  the  New  Testament 
Epistles,  as  he  dealt  with  it,  'rejoiced  like  Enoch  in 
being  translated.'  "     His  rare  gifts  as  a  writer  were 

370 


PHILLIPS  BROOKS 

manifest  in  his  earliest  essays.  The  style  ha 
grace  of  the  after-sermons,  a  nameless  quality  i  ij^^ 
made  some  of  us  feel  that  we  must  begin  over  agi^g- 
The  same  with  the  thought.  It  never  seemed  like 
yours  or  what  might  come  in  time  to  be  yours. 
The  only  cheering  thing  about  it  was  that  it  sur- 
prised the  professors.  There  was  some  comfort  in 
hearing  Dr.  Sparrow  say:  "Mr.  Brooks  is  very 
remarkable";  and  "that  he  recognized  in  him  a 
pupil  who  needed  none  of  his  instruction."  The 
late  Dr.  W.  N.  Clarke  thus  briefly  sums  up  the  work 
done  by  Phillips  Brooks  at  the  theological  seminary 
in  Alexandria:  "In  the  three  years  that  he  spent 
there  his  first  conscious  and  well-directed  work  was 
done.  The  seminary  was  so  little  absorbing  that 
he  took  his  own  way  and  it  was  the  way  of  reading. 
His  reading  was  enormous  in  amount  and  very  wide 
in  range.  He  sought  to  lay  hold  upon  the  best 
that  the  human  mind  had  done,  and  to  make  it  his 
own."* 

One  practice  observed  by  him  in  the  seminary 
preserves  the  record  of  his  reading  and  its  wide 
range,  that  contributed  greatly  to  his  development 
of  mind.  He  never  was  without  a  note-book,  to 
record  the  books  he  read,  to  preserve  extracts  from 
them  that  he  deemed  especially  notable  and  worth 
preserving,  and  the  thoughts  of  his  own  suggested 
by  them.  These  thoughts  are  upon  every  variety 
of  subject,  and  possess  an  originality,  a  depth,  wis- 
dom and  value  that  are  most  remarkable.  Many  of 
them  are  equal  to  the  ideas  and  reflections  of  his 

*  See  Art.  Huxley  and  Phillips  Brooks.    Bib.  Sac,  Jan.  1902,  Vol.  59. 

371 


NINE  GREAT  PREACHERS 

lys.  As  an  exercise,  it  was  of  inestimable 
in  developing  his  powers  of  independent 
/Qght,  and  training  him  to  the  clear  and  easy 
c'xpression  of  his  thought.  "One  of  the  most  impor- 
tant features  of  the  note-books,"  Professor  A  Hen 
points  out,  "is  the  intimations  they  contain  of  a 
profound  conception  of  the  scheme  of  things, 
wrought  out  by  an  isolated  student  in  much  inward 
perturbation  with  no  assistance  from  his  teachers. 
When  Phillips  Brooks  left  home  for  the  theological 
seminary,  he  provided  himself  in  advance  with  these 
books,  in  anticipation  of  the  service  they  would 
render.  When  he  reached  his  new  abode,  and  found 
himself  among  strangers,  in  an  inconvenient  room, 
with  a  bed  too  short  for  him,  with  no  *arm  chair' 
or  any  of  the  comforts  and  conveniences  of  life, 
with  only  the  light  afforded  by  a  tallow  candle, 
he  sat  down  at  the  earliest  moment  to  his  self-imposed 
task  and  continued  the  work  of  registering  his 
thoughts.  He  divided  his  note-book  in  two  equal 
parts,  the  first  for  holding  remarks  of  others  worth 
copying,  hints  and  suggestions  from  his  reading, 
stray  bits  of  information,  all  the  items  in  short  for 
a  miscellaneous  commonplace-book.  In  the  second 
half  he  wrote  down  the  thoughts  which  were  his 
own.  It  is  worth  mentioning  that  he  filled  out  the 
second  half  of  the  book  long  before  the  first,  and 
went  back  to  fill  the  empty  pages  with  the  ideas 
that  were  coming  thick  and  fast." 

"The  first  thing  which  impresses  one  in  turning 
over  these  note-books  is  the  capacity  shown  for 
high  scholarship.     Greek  and  Latin  were  no  longer 

372 


PHILLIPS  BROOKS 

dead  languages,  but  were  at  his  disposal.  .  .  . 
Thus  in  the  first  few  months  after  he  reached  the 
seminary,  we  find  him  reading  Herodotus  and  Aes- 
chylus, and  among  Latin  writers,  Plautus,  Lucretius, 
and  Lucan;  of  ecclesiastical  writers,  Augustine, 
Tertullian  and  the  venerable  Bede.  Tertullian 
attracted  with  him  a  singular  charm,  as  though  he 
found  in  that  vehement,  passionate  soul  something 
akin  to  his  own  moods.  From  all  these  writers 
he  was  making  extracts,  sometimes  in  the  original, 
or  translating  as  an  exercise  for  the  mastery  of  the 
language.  Schiller's  'Wallenstein'  also  attracted 
him  and  he  kept  up  his  French  by  reading  Saint 
Pierre's  'Etudes  de  la  Nature.'  He  had  special 
qualifications  for  such  work  in  his  gift  for  languages. 

"Next  to  the  study  of  the  classics  and  early  eccle- 
siastical writers  comes  his  devotion  to  English  litera- 
ture. He  was  reading  so  many  books  during  his 
first  year  in  the  seminary  that  one  marvels  how  he 
found  time  for  the  required  tasks  of  daily  recitations." 
Professor  Allen  names  thirty-four  English  authors 
''into  whom  he  is  dipping  at  will,  from  whom  also  he 
is  making  extracts  in  his  note -books.  The  quota- 
tions he  copies  reveal  the  character  of  his  mind; 
and  there  is  disclosed  here  a  veritable  hunger  to 
know  the  best  thought  of  the  world." 

"The  note-books  indicate  that  in  his  reading  he 
kept  his  eye  upon  one  incidental  object,  the  accumu- 
lation of  ideas,  of  pithy  phrases,  or  epigrammatic 
statements,  and  above  all  of  similes  and  comparisons. 
These  he  puts  down  in  condensed  form  as  so  much 
material  for  future  use.     There  are  many  hundreds 

373 


NINE  GREAT  PREACHERS 

of  similes  collected  here,  which  afterwards  reappeared 
in  his  preaching." 

His  biographer  states  that  in  all  his  reading  and 
thinking  he  had  one  particular  aim  of  supreme 
importance.  It  was  "to  trace  the  connection  between 
ideas  and  principles  of  conduct,  between  theological 
dogmas  and  the  actual  life  of  the  soul,  to  show  how 
they  ministered  to  the  growth  of  a  man  in  righteous- 
ness of  character.  Confronted  as  he  was  with 
doctrines  and  dogmas,  whose  acceptance  was  re- 
garded as  important,  he  asked  for  their  nexus  with 
the  human  will,  or  with  the  reason  and  the  feeling 
that  led  as  motives  to  the  action  of  the  will."  If 
he  found  no  connection  he  called  them  "theological 
dry  rot."  "There  was  another  thought,"  says 
Professor  Allen,  "much  in  his  mind  and  finding 
frequent  expression,  which  was  to  become  one  of 
his  ruling  ideas — that  truth  had  many  aspects,  that 
what  failed  to  bring  one  man  strength  or  consolation 
might  to  another  be  the  source  of  joy  and  peace. 
To  condemn  another  man's  belief  or  to  sneer  at  it 
was  madness":  "Poor  feeble  creatures  in  a  feeble 
world,  we  each  must  catch  what  is  most  comfort 
to  his  feebleness.  Believe  in  mine  for  me,  I  will 
believe  in  yours  for  you.  Surely  we  each  have 
quite  enough  to  do  to  hold  our  own,  without  this 
cruel  folly  of  saying  to  another,  'Your  comfort  is  a 
cheat,  your  hope  a  heresy,  the  earnest  life  you  are 
living  a  lie.'  " 

"Now  and  then,"  says  Dr.  Allen,  "but  rarely,  he 
jots  down  in  his  note-book  some  item  gained  from 
his  teachers.     Whatever  help  by  way  of  suggestion 

374 


PHILLIPS  BROOKS 

and  inspiration  was  afforded  by  Dr.  Sparrow,  yet 
the  ultimate  solution  of  theological  problems  was 
made  by  Phillips  Brooks  himself  in  his  own 
distinctive  manner." 

Examples  from  his  note-books  of  the  first  year 
in  the  seminary  (he  was  then  only  twenty-one)  are: 
"We  must  learn  the  infinite  capacity  of  truth  to  ^ 
speak  to  every  human  mind,  and  of  every  human 
mind  to  hear,  and  more  or  less  completely  understand 
the  truth  that  speaks.     .     .     .     Let  us  then  rever- 
ence our  neighbor's   way  of  finding  truth.     If  by 
his  life  and  faith  we  can  clearly  see  that  he  is  finding    / 
it  indeed,  let  us  not  turn  away  because  he  hears  it  /^ 
in  another  tongue  than  ours.     The  speaker  is  the 
same.     If  he  can  read  in  a  stormy  sky,  or  a  sunny 
landscape,  lessons  for  which  we  must  go  to  books 
and  sermons  so  much  the  better  for  him." 

"A  noble  principle  or  thought,  like  the  widow's 
barrel  and  cruse  is  never  dry.  We  draw  on  it  for 
our  daily  life,  we  drink  of  its  power  in  our  weakness, 
and  taste  its  power  in  our  despair;  but  God's  bless- 
ing is  on  it  and  the  fulness  of  his  truth  is  filling  it,  and 
so  it  never  fails.  We  come  back  to  it  in  our  next 
weakness  or  our  next  despondency,  and  find  it 
thoughtful  and  hopeful  as  ever,  till  the  famine  is 
over,  and,  kept  alive  and  nurtured  by  its  strength, 
we  come  forth  to  gather  new  harvests  of  great 
thoughts." 

Like  almost  all  successful  preachers,  he  began  to 
preach  while  a  student  in  the  seminary.  In  his 
senior  year  he  and  another  member  of  his  class  took 
charge  of  a  small  mission  at  Sharon,   three  miles 

375 


NINE  GREAT  PREACHERS 

j 

distant.     This  is  the  best  way  to  learn  to  preach.  ; 
Thus  only  can  the  powers  that  are  used  in  preaching,  ^ 
especially  extempore  preaching,  be  developed.     He  is  \ 
said  to  have  made  a  total  failure  on  his  first  attempt,  I 
receiving  as  his  only  encouragement  the  advice  to  \ 
"try  again."     This  he  did,  and  with  such  promising  i 
success,  that  he  soon  after  wrote  to  his  brother, 
"Though  no  orator  as  Brutus  is,  it  goes  pretty  glib."  | 
Better  evidence  than  this  is  found  in  the  fact  that  '• 
two  strangers  toward  the  end  of  the  year  were  seen 
in  his  congregation,   who  after  the  sermon  sought 
an  interview  with  him,  and  so  favorably  impressed 
had  they  been  with  his  sermon,  invited  him  in  the  . 
name  of  their  church,  whose  committee  they  were, 
to  become  the  pastor  of  the  Church  of  the  Advent, 
Philadelphia.     He   accepted    the    call    and   entered  j 
upon  his  work  on  Sunday,  July  10,   1859,  at  the  | 
age  of  twenty-three  and  one-half  years.  j 

Ten  years  he  labored  in  Philadelphia,  two  and  j 
one-half  years  as  minister  of  the  Church  of  the  ] 
Advent,  seven  and  one-half  as  minister  of  the  Church 
of  the  Holy  Trinity.  Twenty-two  years  he  la-  j 
bored  in  Boston  as  minister  of  Trinity  Church,  and  I 
for  a  year  and  a  half  he  served  his  Church  as  the  \ 
Bishop  of  Massachusetts.  \ 

His  development  in  pulpit  power  as  a  preacher  ; 
of  the  gospel  was  rapid,  almost  astonishing,  and  his  ! 
reputation  as  a  remarkable  preacher  soon  became  ; 
established  and  wide-spread.  Of  course  he  did  not  ; 
at  once  attain  the  acme  of  his  power.  This  had  its  ^ 
stages  of  growth,  like  that  of  lesser  men,  and  it  did 
not  reach  its  culmination  until  he  went  to  Boston    ; 

376  I 


PHILLIPS  BROOKS 

and  was  midway  in  his  ministry  there,  but  the 
chief  quahties  that  characterized  his  preaching  in 
the  fulness  and  maturity  of  his  glorious  manhood, 
were  developed  and  manifested  in  those  years  of  his 
early  ministry  spent  in  Philadelphia.  "Later  years," 
says  Dr.  Brastow,  "may  have  witnessed  in  many 
respects  more  important  service  for  the  church  and 
the  world,  but  none  were  marked  by  greater  intel- 
lectual brilliancy  or  more  popular  effectiveness 
than  those  years  of  the  Philadelphia  ministry." 

What  then  were  the  chief  characteristics^fj;iis 
IDireaching.'^  What  qualities  distinguished  this  great 
man,  who  for  a  full  generation,  upward  of  thirty- 
three  years,  was  to  stand  before  the  American  people 
in  two  of  their  chief  cities  and  proclaim  to  them  with 
most  convincing  and  impressive  powers  the  everlast- 
ing gospel  of  Christ.'* 

(1)  He  was  a  magnificent  specimen  of  physical 
manhood.  Tall  of  stature — six  feet  four  inches — 
of  stalwart,  symmetrical  form,  which  was  surmounted 
by  a  large,  shapely  head  with  dark,  kindly  eyes  and 
noble  features,  expressive  mouth  and  chin,  uncon- 
cealed by  any  beard,  the  very  appearance  of  the 
man  drew  attention. 

(2)  An  agreeable  voice,  which  Dr.  Brastow  de- 
scribes (in  "Representative  Modern  Preachers")  as 
"a  full,  strong  voice,  not  well-managed,  but  full  of 
feeling  and  force."  It  was  "not  well-managed," 
because,  unlike  Beecher,  he  never  tried  to  improve 
it  by  judicious  elocutionary  training;  he  "despised 
elocution  as  begetting  self -consciousness,  at  war  with 
naturalness  and  simplicity."     In  his  case,  his  agree- 

377 


NINE  GREAT  PREACHERS 

able  sympathetic  voice  with  its  unspoiled  natural- 
ness joined  to  his  unconscious  earnestness  was 
probably  an  advantage,  in  spite  of  the  torrent-like 
rapidity  of  his  utterance. 

(3)  He  was  a  very  thoughtful  preacher.  In  the 
natural  opulence  and  productiveness  of  his  mind 
he  resembled  Beecher.  But  he  greatly  surpassed 
Beecher  as  a  scholar  and  in  the  extent  of  his  reading 
and  literary  culture.  He  laid  under  tribute  nearly 
the  whole  realm  of  good  literature.  And  so  there 
was  in  his  sermons,  as  Professor  Allen  says,  "an 
indescribable  flavor  of  the  world's  richest  literature." 
They  possess  also  a  greater  literary  value  than 
Beecher's  as  sermon  literature,  because  of  the  supe- 
rior training  in  English  received  by  him  in  the  Latin 
School  and  at  Harvard,  and  his  constant  practice 
of  careful  writing  in  his  note-books  as  well  as  of  his 
sermons.  He  inherited  from  his  father  a  talent  for 
clear,  exact  expression,  with  which  there  was  united 
an  imaginative  charm  which  arrested  attention  and 
held  it  spellbound. 

(4)  He  possessed  an  extraordinary  capacity  for 
feeling  and  especially  religious  feeling.  "It  was  this 
element,"  says  Professor  Allen,  "that  formed  one 
large  constituent  in  the  secret  of  his  strength.  His 
cajJcity  for  deep  feeling  was  like  the  ocean  in  its 
majesty;  ideas,  experiences,  the  forces  of  life  that 
appealed  to  him,  roused  him  as  a  whirlwind,  in 
waves  of  inevitable  power,  and  feeling  became  a 
torrent  until  it  had  found  expression.  But  this 
feeling  found  its  freest  expression  in  the  pulpit, 
going  forth   to   the   great   congregation."     In   this 

378 


PHILLIPS  BROOKS 

capacity  for  deep,  overwhelming  feeling,  Brooks 
and  Beecher  were  alike,  and  both  derived  the  en- 
dowment from  their  mothers.  It  is  characteristic 
of  all  the  great  preachers  and  is  the  chief  element  of 
impressive,  enthralling  eloquence. 

(5)  He  was  possessed  of  a  rich  and  fertile  imagina- 
tion, which  gave  color  to  all  his  preaching.  He 
habitually  looked  at  truth  through  the  revealing  or 
transfiguring  light  of  imagination.  "This  habit  of 
looking  at  truth  through  the  imagination,  which. 
Dr.  Brastow  thinks,  was  in  part  at  least  the  result 
of  his  study  of  Alexandrian  philosophy  and  the 
Church  Fathers,  Tertullian,  Cyprian  and  Augustine, 
was  prominent  in  his  preaching  throughout  his  ca- 
reer" ("Representative  Preachers").  His  mind  was 
/analogical  and  was  quick  to  discover  resemblances. 
It  found  in  outward  things  attractive  and  instructive 
images  of  divine  truth.  His  sermon,  "The  Candle 
of  the  Lord,"  is  an  interesting  example.  How 
skilfully  he  uses  the  candle  and  its  relation  to  the 
fire  that  kindles  it  into  a  blaze  and  makes  it  sub- 
servient to  its  uses,  as  an  analogue  of  man's  spirit 
and  its  relation  to  God! 

Through  his  imagination,  Phillips  Brooks  was  an 
able  and  most  interesting  interpreter  of  truth. 
By  it  also  he  glorified  truth  and  so  commended  it 
to  men,  that  they  suddenly  found  it  attractive  who 
previously  had  discovered  no  beauty  or  compelling 
charm  in  it. 

(6.)  His  vision  of  things  unseen  and  eternal  was 
most  clear,  constant  and  real.  "That  vision  of 
soul,  that  sense  of  the  invisible  and  eternal,"  says 

379 


NINE  GREAT  PREACHERS 

Dr.  Brastow,  "was  one  of  his  choicest  gifts  and  it 
was  nourished  by  all  the  choicest  sources  of  his 
culture  and  all  the  great  experiences  of  his  life."  He 
inherited  this  also  from  his  mother.  It  grew  and 
expanded  his  horizon  with  the  advancing  years. 
He  lived  habitually  in  two  worlds,  this  mundane 
world  and  the  heavenly  world.  "In  the  realm  that 
to  Huxley  was  non-existent  for  want  of  evidence," 
says  Dr.  W.  N.  Clarke,  "Brooks  lived  and  moved 
and  had  his  being.  Hear  the  voice  of  one  who  finds 
it  most  real,  and  dwells  at  home  in  its  spiritual 
atmosphere.  Quotation  is  the  quickest  way  to 
show  what  Phillips  Brooks  found  there:  *I  knew 
all  about  God  before  you  told  me,'  said  little  blind, 
deaf,  dumb  Helen  Keller  to  me  one  day,  *only  I  did 
not  know  His  name.'  It  was  a  perfect  expression 
of  the  innateness  of  the  divine  idea  in  the  human 
mind,  of  the  belonging  of  the  human  soul  to  God." 
In  a  more  personal  strain,  he  says  again:  "Less 
and  less,  I  think,  grows  the  consciousness  of  seeking 
God.  Greater  and  greater  grows  the  certainty  that 
he  is  seeking  us  and  giving  himself  to  us  to  the  com- 
plete measure  of  our  present  capacity.  'That  is 
love,  not  that  we  loved  him,  but  that  he  loved  us.' 
There  is  such  a  thing  as  putting  ourselves  in  the  way 
of  God's  overflowing  love  and  letting  it  break  upon 
us  till  the  response  of  love  comes,  not  by  struggle, 
not  even  by  deliberation,  but  by  necessity,  as  the 
echo  comes  when  the  sound  strikes  the  rock."  What 
language  is  this,  for  affirmation  of  infinite  but  tangi- 
ble realities  discovered  in  that  world  which  Huxley 
found  blank  and  bare!     In  this  region  moved  year 

380 


PHILLIPS  BROOKS 

after  year  the  thought  and  utterance  of  the  man, 
and  the  action  of  his  Hfe.  There  he  found  a  splendid 
freedom,  and  his  ample  powers  struck  out  in  generous 
activity.  He  did  not  look  into  religion  and  into 
God  as  a  bird  may  look  from  its  nest  into  the  open 
sky.  He  rose  into  religion  and  into  God,  and  was 
there  sustained. 

A  beautiful  illustration  of  the  truth  of  Dr.  Clarke's 
representation  here  of  the  operation  of  the  religious 
faculty,  in  the  case  of  Phillips  Brooks  and  of  all 
whom  he  inspired  with  like  faith,  has  been  given  the 
writer  of  this  "study,"  while  at  work  upon  it.  On 
the  piazza  of  our  summer  cottage,  some  little  wrens 
have  built  their  nest  and  reared  their  young.  The 
time  having  come  for  their  young  to  leave  their 
nest  and  launch  themselves  upon  the  air  in  flight,  it 
seemed  marvelous,  that  with  no  experience  in  flying, 
they  boldly  flung  themselves  upon  the  air,  as  their 
instinct  prompted,  and  found  themselves  equipped 
with  the  needful  wings  that  carried  them  safely  in 
it;  and  that,  in  a  little  while,  these  wings  being 
strengthened  and  developed  by  exercise,  they  found 
flying  a  joy  and  the  air  their  natural  element.  So 
let  a  human  soul  commit  itself  to  the  religious 
life  as  taught  by  Christ,  and  its  faith  will  be 
justified  that  this  life  is  the  life  for  which  it  was 
intended. 

"To  Phillips  Brooks,"  says  Dr.  Clarke,  "God  was 
the  greatest  and  most  certain  of  realities.  Christ 
has  revealed  God,  and  shown  what  manner  of  God 
he  is,  and  to  this  man  Christ  stood  for  God:  Christ 
in  the  infinite  beauty  and  power  of  his  character 

381 


NINE  GREAT  PREACHERS 

meant  the  meaning  of  God  to  him.  God  meant 
Christ,  and  Christ  meant  God;  and  under  either 
name  he  had  before  him  the  reahty  which  he  felt  to 
be  the  glory  of  this  world  and  of  all  worlds.  /  Accord- 
ingly his  keywords  were  such  as  God,  Christ,  the 
soul,  personality,  love,  life.  The  keyword  of  his 
later  ministry  was  life.  In  those  glorious  years  of 
spiritual  power  he  used  to  say  that  he  had  only  one 
text  and  one  sermon,  and  the  one  text  was,  I  am 
come  that  they  might  have  life,  and  have  it  more 
abundantly.  The  soul's  experience  of  inexhaust- 
ible, overflowing  life  in  fellowship  with  the  living 
God,  this  was  his  own  theme,  and  this  experience  he 
helped  multitudes  to  make  their  own."*  He  might 
have  truly  said,  with  the  apostle:  "My  citizenship 
is  in  heaven.  I  have  directed  my  mind  to  things 
above  where  Christ  sitteth  on  the  right  hand  of 
God."  He  walked  with  God;  he  conversed  with 
Christ  as  his  most  intimate  friend.  He  loved  his 
earthly  friends  and  fondly  sought  and  lingered  in 
their  society,  but  for  none  of  them  had  he  such 
attachment  as  for  Christ.  Him  he  knew  better  and 
from  him  received  an  influence  more  potent,  real 
and  palpable  than  from  any  other.  His  mother's 
exhortations:  "Keep  close  to  your  Savior,  Philly," 
"Preach  Christ  faithfully,"  he  carefully  observed. 

(7)  He  possessed  an  independent  mind.  Though 
he  studied  the  works  of  the  great  men  of  the  past 
and  of  his  own  time,  and  appreciated  them,  the  works 
of  the  Christian  Fathers,  of  Bacon,  Robertson, 
Bossuet,   Goethe,   yet  he  owned  none  of  them  as 

*  Article,  Huxley  and  Phillips  Brooks.    Bib.  Sac,  Vol.  LIX,  pp.  14-15. 

382 


PHILLIPS  BROOKS 

master.  He  weighed  the  thoughts  and  opinions  of 
each  in  the  balance  of  his  own  mind  and  accepted 
what  in  his  judgment  was  true.  He  did  not  give 
an  unquestioning,  bhnd  assent  even  to  the  greatest. 
Furthermore,  he  w^as  not  wilhng  to  accept  another's 
opinion  of  a  book  or  author;  he  wanted  to  read  him 
for  himself.  The  practice  of  review  reading  as  a^ 
substitute  for  one's  personal  examination  of  books, 
he  condemned  as  unprofitable.  "To  read  merely 
w^hat  some  one  has  said  about  a  book,"  he  says 
(see  "Essays  and  Addresses,"  Courage)  "is  probably 
as  unstimulating,  as  unfertilizing  a  process  as  the 
human  mind  can  submit  to.  Read  books  them- 
selves. To  read  a  book  is  to  make  a  friend;  if  it 
is  worth  your  reading  you  meet  a  man;  if  there  is 
anything  in  you,  he  will  quicken  it."  __^ 

(8)  He  magnified  Christ  out  of  a  rich  and  ever  ^ 
deepening  ^personal  experience  of  his  grace.  His 
preaching,  like  that  of  the  apostles,  w^as  largely  a 
personal  testimony,  a  speaking  of  things  which  he 
has  seen  and  heard.  Quite  as  much  as  Beecher,. 
he  aimed  to  hold  up  and  commend  Christ  to  his 
great  congregation,  rather  than  discourse  to  them 
upon  abstract  theological  dogmas  and  abstruse 
themes.  Among  his  published  sermons,  there  are 
four  or  five  upon  the  single  text,  John  8:12:  "I 
am  the  Light  of  the  World,  he  that  follow^eth  me, 
etc."  We  recommend  to  our  readers  to  read  the 
particular  one  which  furnishes  the  title  to  the  fifth 
series  of  his  sermons,  "The  Light  of  the  World." 
'  In  it,  he  represents  Christ  as  doing  for  the  individual 
soul  and  the  world  of  humanity,  what  the  sun  does 

383 


NINE  GREAT  PREACHERS  | 

for  the  physical  world;    as  waking  it  up  from   its  ' 

previous  darkness,  torpidity  and  sterile  state  to  a  ■ 

state  of  transforming  light  and  life,  beauty  and 
fruitfulness.     Christ  and  the  soul  were  meant  for  ] 

each  other  as  the  sun  and  the  earth.     And  as  the  ! 

quickening  sun  in  the  morning  and  in  the  spring- 
time, calls  to  the  drowsy  and  frost-blighted  earth, 
to  awake  and  array  itself  in  its  beautiful  garments,  \ 

and  in  doing  this  to  come  on  to  its  true  self,  so  the  | 

Christ  in  like  manner  calls  to  man  to  put  off  his  ] 

sin  and  misery  and  enter  upon  his  true  life  and  ful-  | 

fill  his  high  destiny.  It  is  a  message  that  appeals 
to  the  best  that  is  in  man  and  encourages  him  to  ; 

attempt  for  himself  what  is  best.     It  is  a    gospel  ! 

of  redemption  from  sin  and  death.  j 

(9)  He  possessed  a  power  of  imiversal  sympathy,  ! 

the  power  of  entering  into  the  lives  of  people  of  j 

every  class,  and  inspiring  them  "to  the  elevation  of  i 

high  strung  feeling  and  purposes."     "Marvelously," 
says  a  distinguished  Methodist  preacher,*  "did  he 
bring  out  of  that  wonderful  gospel  teachings  which 
appeal  to  the  profound  and  the  learned,  and  plain         ] 
lessons    which    also    help    the    unlettered."      The  ; 

scholar  said,   "He   is  of   us,"   and   the   unlettered,  i 

"He  is  of  us."     The  poor  said,  "He  is  of  us,"  and  ; 

the  rich  said,  "He  is  of  us."  To  the  young  he 
was  full  of  buoyancy;  to  the  troubled  he  was  a 
man  deeply  acquainted  with  grief.  All  men,  of  all 
classes  and  conditions  claimed  him  because  in  his 
magnificent  heart  and  sympathy  he  seemed  to  enter  ; 

into    their    trials,    disappointments    and    successes,  j 

*  Vol.  2,  p.  812  of  Professor  Allen's  LL^e.  . 

384  I 


PHILLIPS  BROOKS 

and  had  power  to  heal  the  soreness  of  heart  which 
was  common  to  them  all. 

(10)  He  was  unmistakably  a  great  man  in  every 
respect,  phj^sically,  mentally,  morally  and  in  heart. 
"I  have  known,"  says  Dr.  Weir  Mitchell,  "a  number 
of  the  men  we  call  great — poets,  statesmen,  soldiers — 
but  Phillips  Brooks  was  the  only  one  I  ever  knew  who 
seemed  to  me  entirely  great."  His  was  that  genuine 
greatness  which  made  itself  quickly  felt  in  spite  of 
every  obstacle.  Personal  prejudices,  theological 
differences  and  antagonisms,  sectarian  bitterness 
and  worldly-mindedness,  pride  of  intellect — each 
and  all  were  swept  away;  men  were  made  captives 
to  his  will,  and  glad  to  have  it  so. 

Whatever  he  did  was  greatly  done.  There  was 
the  stamp  of  his  great  heart  and  soul  upon  it.  A 
remarkable  example:  W^hen  still  a  young  man  of 
only  twenty-nine,  scarcely  known  outside  of  Phila- 
delphia, he  was  given  the  signal  honor  of  making 
the  prayer  at  the  commemorative  service  of  Harvard 
in  honor  of  its  soldier  dead,  who  had  fallen  in  the 
war.  "Why  should  such  a  part  have  been  given  to 
so  young  a  man  on  such  an  important  occasion  .f'" 
many  asked,  and  in  asking  they  implied  their  dis- 
pleasure and  disposition  not  to  be  satisfied  with 
any  service  he  might  render  in  performing  the  difli- 
cult  function.  But  with  the  first  sentence  their 
attention  was  caught  and  they  listened  breathless. 
When  the  prayer  was  over  the  people  turned  and 
looked  at  one  another  and  said:  "W^hat  a  prayer!" 
"It  was  the  most  impressive  utterance,"  says  Presi- 
dent  Eliot,    "of   a   proud   and   happy   day.     Even 

25  385 


NINE  GREAT  PREACHERS 

Lowell's  *  Commemoration  Ode'  did  not  at  the 
moment  so  touch  the  hearts  of  his  hearers." 

His  eloquence  was  unique,  entirely  unlike  that  of 
any  other  preacher.  It  owed  little  or  nothing,  as 
we  have  said,  to  his  elocution  or  grace  of  delivery. 
It  was  an  eloquence  entirely  of  thought  and  feeling, 
"a  stream  of  liquid  fire,  hurrying  on  in  a  careless 
monotone  so  swiftly  as  to  tease  and  half  baffle  the 
most  watchful  ear,  until  the  great  throng  in  painful, 
eager  silence  became  entranced  and  ecstatic  under 
its  influence."  This  was  true  of  his  written  sermons 
closely  read,  as  he  stood  impassive,  almost  statu- 
esque before  his  audience.  He  possessed,  however, 
another  kind  of  eloquence,  that  of  the  extempore 
speaker,  which  was  even  more  wonderful.  "As 
an  extempore  speaker  he  was  simply  matchless," 
Dr.  Weir  Mitchell  says.  This  mode  of  speaking 
he  practiced  from  the  beginning.  In  Philadelphia 
he  had  regularly  a  Wednesday  evening  service,  at 
which  he  usually  spoke  in  this  way,  and  as  Dr.  Weir 
Mitchell  thought,  the  most  impressively.  "There 
and  thus,  you  got  all  the  impressible  sympathy  his 
noble  sturdiness  (of  person)  gave  to  the  torrent  of 
speech,  which  at  first  had  some  hesitancy,  and  then 
rolled  on,  easy,  fluent  and  strong."  He  prepared 
himself  for  preaching  with  the  greatest  care.  His 
method  of  preparation  is  fully  described  in  the 
fourth  chapter  of  the  second  volume  of  Professor 
Allen's  "Life."  It  is  well  worth  careful  study  for 
its  homiletic  value.  It  offers  the  best  example  of 
the  art  of  sermon-making  we  know  of. 

The  first  step  was  to  jot  down  in  his  "note-book" 

386 


PHILLIPS  BROOKS 

(some  kind  of  note-book  was  his  inseparable  com- 
panion) the  idea  of  his  sermon,  as  it  occurred  to 
him  in  his  thinking  or  Bible  study.  Carrying  con- 
stantly in  mind  the  thought  of  his  ministry,  he 
was  always  on  the  lookout  for  sermon  topics,  and 
was  quick  to  catch  any  hint  that  might  give  him  a 
sermon  and  made  haste  to  write  it  down  with  the 
related  suggestions  that  might  come  with  it. 

Here  are  two  examples: 

John  1:46     "Come  and  see." 

"The  proper  appeal  that  may  be  made  to  a  sceptic 
to  come  and  test  Christianity.  (1)  The  truth  of 
the  Bible.  (2)  The  phenomenon  of  Christ.  (3) 
The  Christian  History.  (4)  The  religious  experi- 
ence, by  putting  himself  into  the  power  of  what  he 
did  hold." 

Acts  3:  3  "Silver  and  gold  have  I  none,  but  such 
as  I  have  give  I  thee." 

"There  is  something  better  for  us  to  have  than 
money.  So  there  must  be  something  better  to 
give.  The  greatest  benefactors  have  not  given 
money — Christ.  So  of  those  who  have  helped  you 
most.  Do  not  make  anything  I  say  an  excuse  for 
not  giving  money.  What  we  can  give  besides; 
ideas,  inspiration,  comfort,  and  above  all  access  to 
God  for  what  He  alone  can  give — forgiveness  and 
grace.  A  man  must  really  possess,  himself,  before 
he  can  really  give." 

A  multitude  of  germinal  ideas  and  emxbryo  sketches 
of  this  kind  are  found  in  his  note-books.  He  thus 
never  lacked  subjects  to  preach  upon. 

Usually  he  had  settled  upon  his  text  by  Monday 

387 


NINE   GREAT  PREACHERS 

noon  for  the  next  Sunday  morning,  and  he  gave 
Mondays  and  Tuesdays  to  the  collection  of  materials 
for  it,  "bringing  together  in  his  note-book  or  on 
scraps  of  paper  the  thoughts  which  were  cognate 
to  his  leading  thought,  or  necessary  for  its  illustra- 
tion and  expansion."  Wednesday  forenoon  he  de- 
voted entirely  to  writing  out  the  plan  he  would 
follow.  The  hardest  part  of  his  work  was  then 
believed  to  be  done.  Thursday  forenoon  and  Fri- 
day forenoon  were  devoted  to  writing  the  sermon. 
"He  wrote  with  rapidity  and  ease,  rarely  making  a 
correction,  and  in  a  large,  legible  handwriting." 

In  a  similar  way  he  prepared  his  plans  for  his 
extempore  sermons.  He  never  trusted  to  the  time 
of  preaching  to  give  him  what  he  wanted  to  say. 
He  previously  fixed  upon  his  topic  and  outlined  his 
course  of  thought. 

In  reading  Dr.  Allen's  description  of  his  plan- 
making,  you  get  the  impression  that  there  was 
something  mechanical  about  this  work,  and  wonder 
how  he  could  make  those  dry  bones  live,  or  clothe 
these  skeletons  with  such  strength  and  beauty. 
But  that  was  the  work  of  his  genius,  quickened  by 
his  religious  faith  and  supported  by  his  unflagging 
labor  in  thinking,  reading,  and  observation  of  life, 
through  which  abundant  materials  were  supplied. 

"He  first  opened  his  soul  to  the  influence  of  the 
truth  which  was  to  constitute  his  message,  devising 
the  most  forcible  method  in  order  to  make  it  appeal 
to  his  own  heart,  and  then  under  the  influence  of  his 
own  conviction  he  wrote  and  preached  his  sermon. 
This  process  kept  him  natural,  sincere  and  unaffected, 

388 


PHILLIPS  BROOKS 

preserving  his  personality  in  all  and  free  from  the 
clangers  of  conventionalism  and  artificiality."  Two 
impressions  were  paramount  in  his  preaching,  as 
especiall}^  characteristic  of  his  eloquence:  They 
w^ere  its  inexhaustible  affluence  of  thought  and 
feeling,  and  its  genuine  life.  Professor  A.  B.  Bruce, 
of  Glasgow,  after  hearing  him  three  times  with 
growing  admiration  said:  "Our  great  preachers  (of 
England  and  Scotland)  take  into  the  pulpit  a  bucket 
full,  or  half  full,  of  the  word  of  God  and  then  by  the 
force  of  personal  mechanism  they  attempt  to  convey 
it  to  the  congregation.  But  this  man  is  just  a  great 
water-main  attached  to  the  everlasting  reservoir  of 
God's  truth  and  grace  and  love,  and  streams  of 
life  pour  through  him  to  refresh  every  weary  soul." 
''Life,''  says  Professor  Allen,  "was  a  word  running 
through  all  his  sermons.  This  ever  recurring  word 
is  expressive  of  the  man." 

Whenever  he  rose  to  address  the  great  congrega- 
tions that  w^ere  attracted  to  his  preaching,  his  heart 
kindled  at  the  sight,  and  he  was  eager  to  communi- 
cate the  truth  which  he  believed  to  be  divinely 
adapted  to  human  need.  It  was  a  living  message 
that  came  from  his  lips. 

At  the  outbreak  of  the  Civil  War  in  1861,  the 
second  year  of  his  Philadelphia  ministry,  he  threw 
himself  with  patriotic  fervor  into  the  various  ques- 
tions of  emancipation  and  reconstruction,  and  his 
eloquence,  like  Beecher's,  was  raised  to  its  highest 
pitch  by  their  influence.  It  was  a  time  of  mighty 
inspirations,  and  he  was  touched  and  deeply  moved 
by  them.     *Tt  awakened  and  evoked  the  greatness 

389 


NINE   GREAT  PREACHERS 

of  Phillips  Brooks."  His  patriotic  sermons  and 
platform  addresses  then  mightily  stirred  men.  He 
was  reckoned  among  the  foremost  of  the  advocates 
of  moral  and  political  reform. 

The  Episcopal  Church,  prior  to  the  war,  and  even 
after  its  beginning,  was  very  conservative  and 
silent  upon  the  subject  of  slavery,  and  disposed  to 
frown  upon  any  utterance  condemnatory  of  it,  as 
"political  preaching"  unsuitable  to  her  pulpits  and 
unbecoming  her  ministers;  but  through  Brooks' 
influence  this  reactionary  attitude  of  his  Church  was 
changed,  and  she  was  brought  into  full  sympathy 
with  the  government  in  its  struggle  with  the  rebel- 
lious states  trying  to  maintain  that  great  iniquity. 

When  the  assassin  Booth,  inspired  by  its  spirit, 
killed  Lincoln,  Brooks'  voice  was  among  the  most 
eloquent  to  deplore  his  death  and  eulogize  his  great 
virtues  and  service.  Among  his  published  addresses 
this  eulogy  holds  a  notable  place.  Its  appreciation 
of  Lincoln  is  a  measure  of  his  own  greatness  as  well 
as  of  Lincoln's.  Only  a  great  soul  can  so  worthily 
estimate,  and  so  eloquently  speak  the  praises  of 
another  great  soul. 

Another  influence,  second  only  in  importance  to 
that  of  the  Civil  War,  which  contributed  to  his  devel- 
opment in  Philadelphia  was  that  of  his  friendships. 
He  was  a  sociable  man,  whose  heart  craved  the  so- 
ciety of  congenial  friends,  and  whose  mind  expanded 
and  appeared  at  its  best  under  the  stimulus  of  their 
presence  and  conversation.  Included  in  the  circle 
were  his  brother  ministers,  W.  W.  Newton  and 
C.  A.  Richards,  and  some  eminent  laymen. 

390 


PHILLIPS  BROOKS 

I  have  spoken  of  Dr.  Weir  Miteheirs  estimate  of 
his  greatness  and  eloquence.  He  became  the  pastor 
of  Dr.  Mitchell  in  Holy  Trinity  and  formed  with 
him  and  his  invalid  sister,  Elizabeth,  a  most  inti- 
mate friendship.  "Always  once,  and  usually  twice 
a  week,  he  dined  with  us,"  says  Dr.  Mitchell,  "and 
five  evenings  out  of  seven  he  was  in  the  habit  of 
dropping  in  about  ten  o'clock  for  a  talk  before  the 
fire  in  my  library.  The  friendship  thus  formed 
matured  with  years.  How  dear  it  was  to  me  I  like 
to  think.  .  .  .  With  my  sister  it  was  as  close 
a  tie.  She  was  by  nature  fond  of  books  and  her 
reading  was  wide  and  various.  In  many  directions 
she  became  singularly  learned,  especially  in  all 
biblical  literature  and  the  history  of  the  Church. 
Witty,  quick  of  tongue,  picturesque  and  often  quaint 
in  statement,  her  talk  was  full  of  pleasant  surprises. 
He  said  to  me  once,  that  no  one  had  so  influenced 
his  opinions  as  this  remarkable  woman." 

We  speak  of  his  friendship  with  her  and  her  gifted 
brother,  to  indicate  that  he  was  no  recluse,  either  in 
Philadelphia  or  in  Boston,  though  he  never  married. 
As  a  matter  of  fact  he  was  one  of  the  most  genial 
and  companionable  of  men  and  he  had  in  full  develop- 
ment all  the  social  virtues.  This  is  one  secret  of 
his  large-hearted,  universal  sympathy  with  men  and 
of  the  attraction  he  exercised  over  them.  He  was 
entirely  unspoiled  by  his  great  success  and  wide- 
spread fame.  He  never  put  on  airs,  or  exhibited 
anything  like  personal  vanity  or  arrogance:  modest 
and  seemingly  unconscious  of  his  indisputable  claims 
to  consideration,  he  was  courteous  and  friendly  to 

391 


NINE   GREAT  PREACHERS 

all,  manifesting  the  meekness  and  gentleness  of 
Christ,  with  whom  he  lived  in  spirit. 

There  never  was  a  pastor  who  enjoyed  more  of  the 
love  and  confidence  of  his  people.  When  he  entered 
upon  his  ministry  in  Boston,  as  pastor  of  Trinity 
Church,  October  31,  1869,  he  was  not  quite  thirty- 
four  years  old.  In  his  service  of  twenty-two  years 
with  this  church,  it  steadily  grew  in  strength  and 
influence,  until  it  became,  through  the  attractiveness 
of  Mr.  Brooks'  preaching,  one  of  the  most  notable 
churches  in  the  land.  His  congregations  were 
variously  composed  of  strangers  from  abroad,  the 
elite  of  the  city,  large  numbers  of  young  men  and 
women,  and  the  poor;  and  it  attests  the  largeness 
and  kindness  of  his  heart,  that  the  humblest  class 
received  as  much  of  his  notice  as  the  highest,  and 
as  keenly  enjoyed  his  message.  His  sermons  in- 
creased in  spirituality  and  heart-power,  and  sounded 
an  ever-deepening  note  with  the  advancing  years; 
and  their  unfailing,  un waning  interest  for  the  great 
throng  which  hung  upon  his  lips,  year  after  year, 
proved  that  he  had  unmistakably  "the  true  genius 
of  the  preacher,  which  consists  in  the  power  of  so 
uttering  spiritual  truth  that  it  shall  be  effective  in 
influencing  the  hearts  of  men." 

During  his  lifetime,  he  published  five  volumes  of 
sermons,  which  had  a  very  large  sale;  thirty  thous- 
and, twenty-five  thousand,  twenty  thousand;  and 
since  his  death  the  number  of  volumes  has  grown  to 
twelve.  They  are  among  the  choicest  in  homiletic 
literature.  In  those  first  volumes  only  five  of  his 
Philadelphia  sermons  were  published.     As  compared 

392 


PHILLIPS  BROOKS 

with  his  later  sermons,  "they  are,"  Professor  Allen 
thinks,  "more  poetic  and  imaginative,  with  a  higher 
literary  finish.  The  traces  of  work  are  more  manifest 
in  them."  Example:  The  seventh  sermon  of  the 
First  Series,  "All  Saints  Day,"  "perhaps  the  most 
beautiful  of  all,"  Professor  Allen  says.  "In  his 
later  preaching  the  contagion  of  a  great  conviction, 
into  which  with  growing  clearness  he  had  come,  was 
manifest."  On  the  power  of  this  the  preacher  most 
relies  for  the  propagation  of  the  truth. 

In  Boston  his  fame  became  not  only  national  but 
international.  He  now  had  the  honor  of  preaching 
repeatedly  in  Westminster  Abbey  and  before  the 
Queen  of  England;  and  his  preaching  across  the 
sea  made  as  profound  impression  as  in  his  own  coun- 
try. Sermons  preached  in  Westminster  Abbey: 
"Symbol  and  Reality,"  sixteenth  of  First  Series: 
"The  Candle  of  the  Lord,"  first  of  Second  Series. 
With  both  of  these  Dean  Stanley  was  greatly 
pleased.  Sermon  before  the  Queen,  "A  Pillar  in 
God's  Temple,"  fourth  in  Second  Series. 

Three  notable  things  during  his  Boston  ministry 
are  especially  worth  attention  for  their  relation  to 
his  expanding  influence  and  ministerial  powers: 

His  preaching  in  Huntington  Hall. 

His  "Lectures  on  Preaching"  before  the  Yale 
Divinity  School. 

His  ministry  to  the  students  of  Harvard  College. 

He  preached  for  four  years  in  Huntington  Hall 
because  of  the  destruction  of  his  own  church  in  the 
great  Boston  fire,  in  November,  1872.  Those  four 
years  mark  a  distinct  epoch  in  his  ministry.     The 

393 


NINE   GREAT  PREACHERS 

location  of  the  Hall,  on  Boylston  Street,  was  more 
convenient,  its  accommodations  more  ample,  and 
its  novelty  as  a  place  of  worship  especially  attractive 
to  many,  though  its  secular  character  and  associa- 
tions, made  it  objectionable  to  many  churchgoing 
people.  Immediately  the  great  Hall  became  a 
center  of  interest  and  attraction.  It  was  soon  filled, 
thronged  beyond  its  utmost  capacity,  morning  and 
afternoon.  "No  courses  of  lectures  on  literature, 
art,  or  science  with  which  the  Hall  was  associated 
ever  witnessed  a  greater  audience.  This  was  the 
case  Sunday  after  Sunday,  till  people  became  accus- 
tomed to  it  as  to  the  gifts  of  God  and  hardly  won- 
dered at  the  munificence  of  the  feast."  There, 
Principal  Tulloch,  of  the  University  of  Aberdeen, 
Scotland,  heard  him,  in  the  spring  of  '74,  preach  the 
sermon  entitled  "The  Opening  of  the  Eyes,"  (pub- 
lished in  the  Fifth  Series)  and  sitting  down  to  write 
home  to  his  wife,  he  said,  "I  never  heard  preaching 
like  it.  So  much  thought  and  so  much  life  combined ; 
such  a  reach  of  mind  and  such  a  depth  and  insight 
of  soul.  I  was  electrified.  I  could  have  got  up  and 
shouted." 

His  lectures  to  the  students  of  the  Yale  Divinity 
School  were  given  in  1877  upon  the  Lyman  Beecher 
lectureship,  and  form  the  most  precious  volume  in 
the  whole  series.  We  recommend  to  all  divinity 
students  to  procure  the  book,  "Lectures  on  Preach- 
ing," and  to  read  it  once  a  year  for  five  years,  until 
their  minds  are  fully  possessed  of  and  enriched  by 
its  ideas  upon  the  subject  discussed.  A  more  stim- 
ulating  and   instructive   volume   upon   the   general 

394 


PHILLIPS  BROOKS 

subject  of  the  Christian  ministry  we  never  have  met. 
"It  abounded  in  sentences  which  linger  in  the  mind.'' 
Brooks  was  then  forty-two  years  old,  and  in  those 
lectures  he  gave  to  the  theological  students  and  the 
younger  clergy  the  ripe  results  of  twenty  years 
experience  and  thought.  "They  constitute  the 
autobiography  of  Phillips  Brooks,  the  confessions 
of  a  great  preacher."  Besides  their  literary  charm 
and  personal  flavor,  they  have  the  additional  merit 
of  presenting  to  the  ministry  the  noblest  and  most 
inspiring  ideal  of  the  preacher's  work  and  character. 
We  reckon  it  the  most  precious  of  his  writings.  It 
has  had  a  mighty  influence  in  moulding  the  char- 
acters and  shaping  the  work  of  the  ministry  in  the 
last  generation.  It  was  republished  in  English 
and  translated  into  the  French  and  read  by  ministers 
of  every  denomination.  The  good  it  has  done  can 
not  be  estimated. 

His  ministry  to  the  students  of  Harvard  College 
may  be  said  to  have  begun  almost  with  his  coming 
from  Philadelphia  to  Boston.  His  voice  was  often 
heard,  in  sermon  and  address,  in  Appleton  Chapel 
and  in  the  Episcopal  Theological  School  of  Cam- 
bridge. They  thronged  to  hear  him  whenever  he 
was  advertised  to  speak,  and  they  went  over  to 
Boston  in  large  numbers  to  hear  him  Sunday  after- 
noon. When  the  college  adopted  the  plan  of  having 
a  body  of  temporary  Chaplains,  who  should  severally 
serve  a  number  of  Sabbaths,  as  preacher  and  pastor, 
in  place  of  one  college  preacher  to  minister  to  the 
students,  he  was  foremost  among  those  selected,  and 
he  was  repeatedly  chosen  to  serve  the  college  in  this 

395 


^  NINE   GREAT  PREACHERS 

way.  Of  all  the  preachers  whora  the  students  heard, 
he  was  the  most  enthusiastically  admired  and  loved. 
It  was  fitting,  in  view  of  this  love  and  the  great 
influence  that  he  had  exerted  over  them,  that  when 
he  died  his  body  should  be  borne  to  and  from  Trinity 
Church,  where  the  funeral  services  were  held,  on 
the  shoulders  of  Harvard  students.  He  had  been 
their  best  counsellor  and  friend.  He,  more  than 
any  other  man,  had  delivered  the  college  from  its 
former  reproach  of  being  a  godless  place,  and  made 
its  atmosphere  religious  and  wholesome,  so  that  the 
last  time  he  preached  in  Appleton  Chapel  at  the 
beginning  of  the  college  year  he  could  truly  say, 
"If  there  is  any  man  of  whom  this  place  makes  a 
sceptic  or  a  profligate,  what  can  we  sadly  say  but 
this:  *He  was  not  worthy  of  the  place  to  which  he 
came,  he  was  not  up  to  Harvard  College.'  The  man 
with  true  soul  cannot  be  ruined  here.  Coming 
here  humbly,  bravely,  he  shall  meet  his  Christ. 
Here  he  shall  come  into  the  fuller  presence  of  the 
Christ  whom  he  had  known  and  loved  in  the  dear 
Christian  home,  and  know  and  love  Him  more  than 
ever." 

No  higher  or  harder  test  of  a  preacher's  character 
and  power  can  be  found  than  to  win  the  respect  and 
love  of  such  a  body  of  young  men.  He  who  does 
it  must  be  pure  gold.  They  are  keen  to  detect  any 
counterfeit,  and  merciless  in  their  contempt  for  it. 

He  died  in  the  early  morning  of  Monday,  January 
23,  1893,  in  the  fifty-seventh  year  of  his  age.  He  had 
preached  on  Tuesday  evening  of  the  preceding  week 
his  last  sermon  at  the  Visitation  service  given  as 

396 


PHILLIPS  BROOKS 

bishop  of  the  diocese  to  the  Church  of  the  Good 
Shepherd  in  Boston.  The  subject  of  his  sermon 
was,  Christ  Feeding  the  Multitude  in  the  Desert,  a 
subject  that  lay  close  to  his  heart  and  which  may  be 
said  to  have  embodied  the  principal  theme  of  his 
ministry.  The  announcement  of  his  death,  unher- 
alded by  any  previous  notice  of  his  illness,  produced 
a  great  shock  of  surprise  and  of  wide-spread  sorrow. 
By  his  death  Boston  felt  that  it  had  lost  its  greatest 
citizen.  The  popular  sentiment  demanded  that  a 
bronze  statue,  to  perpetuate  his  imposing  form  and 
noble  face,  should  be  erected  to  his  memory.  The 
eminent  sculptor,  St.  Gaudens,  executed  it  among 
his  last  works,  and  it  now  stands  in  front  of  Trinity 
Church.  It  gives  a  good  idea  of  the  superb  manhood 
of  its  subject. 

Among  the  substantial  tributes  given  to  his  mem- 
ory is  *'The  Phillips  Brooks  House"  at  Harvard 
College,  a  noble  building  erected  for  religious  pur- 
poses to  perpetuate  in  the  college  the  Christian 
atmosphere  which  he  did  so  much  to  create  there. 
The  fund  for  it  was  started  by  the  class  of  1855,  his 
own  class,  and  it  was  swollen  by  large  contributions 
made  by  English  friends  and  admirers.  On  the 
tablet  in  the  central  hall  is  this  inscription: 

"A  preacher  of  righteousness  and  hope,  majestic 
in  stature,  impetuous  in  utterances,  rejoicing  in  the 
truth,  unhampered  by  bonds  of  church  or  station, 
he  brought  by  his  life  and  doctrine  fresh  faith  to  a 
people,  fresh  meaning  to  ancient  creeds;  to  this 
University  he  gave  constant  love,  large  service,  high 
example." 

397 


NINE   GREAT  PREACHERS 

Thank  God  for  such  a  character,  for  such  a  minis- 
try, for  such  a  life,  in  which  the  aspiration  expressed 
in  his  own  words  was  fulfilled: 

" — a  life  that  men  shall  love  to  know 
Has  once  been  lived  on  this  degenerate  earth, 
And  sing  it  like  some  tale  of  long  ago 
In  ballad-sweetness  round  their  household  hearth." 


398 


BIBLIOGRAPHY 

The  Interest  and  Value  of  Ministerial  Biography  as  illustrated  in: 

The  History  of  Christian  Preaching.  By  Prof.  T.  H.  Pattison.  Ameri- 
can Baptist  Publication  Society.     Philadelphia,  1903. 

The  Outlook.  November  12,  1910.  Reminiscences  of  Edward  Everett 
Hale. 

Autobiography  of  Lyman  Beecher.  Edited  by  his  son.  2  vols.  Harper 
&  Brothers,  1871. 

Life  and  Times  of  Saint  John  Chrysostom.  By  W.  R.  W.  Stephens. 
London.     John  Murray,  1883. 

Historical  Sketches.  By  John  Henry  Newman  of  The  Oratory.  2 
vols.     London.     Basil  Montague  Pickering,  1876. 

John  of  Antioch  in  Orations  and  Addresses.  By  R.  S.  Storrs,  D.  D. 
Boston.     Pilgrim  Press. 

Ben  Hur.     By  Gen.  Lew  Wallace.     New  York.     Harper's,  1880. 

Bernard  of  Clairveaux.  The  Times,  the  Man,  and  His  Work.  By 
Richard  S.  Storrs.     New  York.     Chas.  Scribner's  Sons,  1892. 

Church  History  of  Britain.  By  Thomas  Fuller.  Encyclopedia  Brit- 
tanica.     Article,  "Monarchism." 

Life  of  John  Bunyan.  By  Rev.  John  Brown.  Bunyan's  Grace  Abound- 
ing. Pilgrim's  Progress.  Bunyan's  Sermons:  Come  and  Wel- 
come to  Jesus  Christ.  Bunyan's  The  Barren  Fig-Tree.  The 
Jerusalem  Sinner  Saved.  Life  of  Dean  A.  P.  Stanley.  Inaugura- 
tion of  Bunyan's  Statue  at  Bedford.  Bunyan's  Sermon:  The  Heav- 
enly Footman. 

Life  and  Times  of  Richard  Baxter.  2  vols.  By  William  Orme,  Bishop 
Gilbert  Burnet's  History  of  His  own  Times.  Baxter's  Saints'  Rest, 
and  The  Reformed  Pastor.  Reliquiae  Baxterianae:  or,  Baxter's 
History  of  his  own  Life  and  Times. 

Address  at  the  Inauguration  of  the  Statue  of  Richard  Baxter  in  Kidder- 
minster.    By  Dean  A.  P.  Stanley.     Littell's  Living  Age,  vol.  127. 

Bossuet:  Orator  Etudes  Critiques  surles  Sermons.  Par  Eugene  Gandar. 
Paris.     Errin  et  Cie,  1888. 

Occasional  Papers.  By  Dean  R.  W.  Church.  Vol.  1 :  No.  14.  Bossuet's 
Oraison  Funebres.     Paris.     Gamier  Freres. 

399 


BIBLIOGRAPHY 

Life  and  Letters  of  Frederick  W.  Robertson.     By  Stopford  A.  Brooke. 

New  York.     Harper  &  Brothers,  1878. 
The  Sermons  of  F.  W.  Robertson.  Complete  in  One  volume.    New  York. 

Harper's,  1878. 
Representative  Modern  Preachers.     By  L.  O.  Brastow,  D.  D.     New 

York.     The  MacMillan  Co.,  1904. 
The  Life  of  Alexander  McLaren.     By  Miss  E.  T.  McLaren.     Hodder  & 

Stoughton.     London. 
Sermons  Preached  in  Manchester.     3  vols,     MacMillan  &  Co. 
The  Secret  of  Power.     MacMillan  &  Co. 
Life  of  Henry  Ward  Beecher,  the  Shakespeare  of  the  Pulpit.     By  John 

Henry  Barrows,  D.  D. 
Henry  Ward  Beecher.     By  Lyman  Abbott. 
Autobiography  and  Correspondence  of  Lyman  Beecher,  D.  D.     Edited 

by  his  son. 
Six  Sermons  upon  Intemperance.     By  L.  Beecher. 
Sermon  against  Duelling.     By  L.  Beecher. 
Life  of  Phillips  Brooks.     By  Prof.   Alexander  V.   G.   Allen.     2  vols. 

New  York.     E.  P.  Button  &  Co.,  1900. 
Bibliotheca  Sacra,  for  January,  1902.     Vol.  59.     Article,  Huxley  and 

Phillips  Brooks.     By  Dr.  W.  N.  Clarke. 
Sermons,  1st,  2d,  and  3d  Series. 
Yale  Lectures  on  Preaching.     By  Phillips  Brooks,     E.  P.  Dutton,  New 

York,  1877. 
Yale  Lectures   on  Pmitan   Preachers   and    Preaching,     By  Dr    John 

Brown,  D.  D. 


400 


INDEX 

Abbi  d'Albert,  170. 

Abbott,  Lyman,  328,  344,  346,  348,  349,  351,  361. 

Abelard,  102-110. 

Allen,  Prof.  Alexander,  V.G.,  366,  370,  372,  374,  378,  384,  388,  389. 

Antioch,  32,  53,  54. 

Anthusa,  31. 

Arcadius,  Emperor,  50,  59. 

Armitage,  Rev.  Thos.,  325. 

Arnold,  Dr.  Thomas,  191,  192,  237. 

Aurelius,  Marcus,  192. 

Augustine,  171. 

Bagshaw,  Edward,  a  friend  of  Baxter,  made  an  opponent  147,  148. 

Barrow,  Dr.  Isaac,  his  remark  concerning  Baxter's  writings,  133. 

Barrows,  Dr.  John  Henry,  326,  332,  333,  336,  340,  348,  358. 

Basil,  friend  of  Chrysostom,  37-40. 

Baxter,  Richard,  birth,  parentage,  early  life  and  education  113-115; 
ordained  for  the  ministry,  begins  work  in  Kidderminster,  makes  it  a 
famous  parish,  115;  shows  extraordinary  qualifications  as  a  preacher, 
cultivates  the  art  of  preaching,  and  displayed  great  eloquence  with  much 
success,  115-119;  at  the  outbreak  of  the  Civil  War  takes  refuge  in  Coven- 
try, there  labors  among  soldiers  of  the  garrison,  induced  to  become 
a  chaplain  in  Parliamentary  army,  followed  it  fearlessly  into  battle, 
120;  encounters  sectaries,  121;  opposed  Cromwell  with  boldness  122- 
123;  returns  to  Kidderminster  after  absence  of  four  years,  stimulated  to 
greater  earnestness  by  army  experiences  124-125;  joins  to  his  preach- 
ing family  visitation  and  private  conversation  with  great  results,  125- 
127;  enlists  laymen  to  work  with  him  and  starts  weekly  prayer  meetings, 
127-128;  anticipates  John  Wesley  in  his  ideas  and  methods  by  100  years 
and  transforms  the  moral  and  religious  tone  of  the  town,  128-129;  it 
led  him  to  write  the  "Reformed  Pastor,"  notable  in  religious  literature, 
129-130;  estimate  of  it  by  Philip  Doddridge  and  Henry  C.  Duvant,  129; 
Dr.  Johnson's  praise  of  Baxter's  writings,  130;  his  Practical  Writings 
of  great  value — "Saints  Rest"  his  first  and  best  known  book — still  a 
live  book  with  "a  style  of  robust  eloquence,  from  time  to  time  of  rare 
felicity  of  language  which  once  heard  can  scarcely  be  forgotten"  (Dean 
Trench),  132-134.     He  had  a  prominent  part  after  the  Restoration  in 

26  401 


INDEX 

vain  attempts  made  over  King's  Declaration  to  reconcile  religious  differ- 
ences 134-140;  declined  the  bishopric  of  Hereford,  140;  attends  the  Savoy 
Conference,  140-142;  deprived  of  his  charge  in  Kidderminster;  his  offense; 
therefore  ever  an  object  of  bitter  persecution  by  Bishop  Morley  and 
others,  143-145;  his  marriage  and  devoted  wife,  145.  His  pen  busy  in 
spite  of  poor  health,  "Dying  Thoughts,"  "Narrative  of  His  Life,"  145- 
146.  His  unfortunate,  offensive  manner  of  attacking  opponents;  the 
comparison  his  biographer,  Orme,  makes  between  his  manner  and  that 
of  Dr.  Owen,  146-147;  controversey  with  Edward  Bagshaw,  its  sad  ending 
and  his  regret  over  it,  147-148.  Notable  change  wrought  in  his  last  years 
from  contentiousness  to  tolerance,  his  motto  for  toleration,  148-149. 
His  own  record  of  changes  in  his  own  mind  and  opinion,  "since  the 
unriper  times  of  his  youth," — Dean  Stanley's  estimate  of  its  value,  150. 
"Counsels  of  Moderation,"  151-157;  monument  to  his  memory  dedicated 
July  28,  1875, — significance  of  it,  157-158.  In  Judge  Jeffries  Court — 
imprisonment — closing  years  and  death,  159-161. 

Henry  Ward  Beecher,  parentage,  early  home  environment,  325-328; 
boyhood  in  Boston — attends  Latin  School — desires  to  go  to  sea — diverted 
from  this  by  father's  wisdom,  329;  Mt.  Pleasant  School,  good  teachers 
and  revival  turn  his  thoughts  toward  the  ministry,  329,  330;  enters 
Amherst  College,  habits  of  study,  college  standing,  330;  at  Lane  Semi- 
nary, 331;  profitable  study  of  New  Testament  under  Prof.  C.  E.  Stowe, 
but  neglects  Systematic  Theology — never  had  much  knowledge  of  it, 
331-332;  the  Seminary  then  a  storm  center  of  theological  controversy, 
from  which  his  father  suffered  to  the  disgust  and  perplexity  of  Henry 
Ward,  332;  has  a  remarkable  revelation  of  God's  truth,  333-334;  effect 
of  this  upon  him,  335;  call  to  Lawrenceburg,  marriage  and  early  house- 
keeping, 335;  ideas  as  to  conditions  of  success,  favorable  impression  soon 
made  by  his  sermons,  large  congregations,  the  theology  in  his  preaching, 
335-336;  his  widening  influence,  call  to  Indianapolis,  crudeness  of  the 
place  of  that  time,  336;  impression  made  by  his  preaching  there;  where 
he  got  his  ideas  of  the  aim  and  right  method  of  preaching;  his  indebted- 
ness to  the  Book  of  Acts  and  writings  of  St.  Paul;  his  preaching  evangelis- 
tic and  productive  of  revivals,  lectures  to  "Young  Men,"  337-338; 
pictorial  style  of  preaching,  illustrations  fresh,  original  and  profuse,  338- 
339;  extended  reputation,  call  to  Plymouth  Church,  Brooklyn,  N.  Y., 
ill  health  of  his  wife,  Plymouth  Church's  growth  under  his  ministry,  339; 
his  equipment  and  capital  for  the  business  of  the  ministry,  340-347; 
his  remarkable  voice,  not  natural  but  result  of  careful  culture  and  train- 
ing, 342;  his  pulpit  prayers,  remark  of  a  gifted  lady,  346-347;  his  good 
sense,  347;  summary  of  his  theology,  348;  after  6  months,  Plymouth 
Church  crowded,  348;  poUceman's  direction  to  strangers;  "Follow  the 

402^ 


l^' 


INDEX 

crowd,"  349;  Dr.  Storr's  and  Dr.  Abbott's  estimates  of  Beecher's  oratorical 
power,  349.  The  three  divisions  in  his  Plymouth  Church  pastorate,  350. 
Irresistible  in  his  plea  for  the  slave,  striking  example,  351;  two  efforts 
during  Civil  War,  352;  the  five  speeches  in  England,  353;  his  encounters 
with  hostile  audiences,  354;  Dr.  Mark  Hopkins  concerning  the  victory 
achieved;  the  ovation  given  him  on  his  return  to  the  United  States,  355; 
the  mystery  of  the  Tilton  scandal,  355;  charges  made  against  him  similar 
to  those  against  John  Wesley,  356;  a  good  man  of  unimpeachable  morality 
357;  the  statue  to  his  memory  in  the  City  Hall  Square,  Brooklyn,  357; 
suggestions  made  by  it  to  a  candid  beholder,  358. 

Beecher,  Lyman,  father  of  Henry  Ward  Beecher;  his  fame  as  a  preacher 
326;  playfulness  in  his  family,  326;  trains  his  children  to  independence  of 
mind,  327;  his  call  to  Hanover  St.  Church,  Boston,  327;  a  defender  of 
Evangehcal  Christianity,  327;  the  revival  produced  by  his  ministry  there, 
Wendell  Phillips  among  the  converts,  327 — call  to  Lane  Seminary, — a 
bed  of  thorns,  332. 

"Ben  Hut,"  by  Gen.  Lew  Wallace,  32,  33. 

Bernard  of  Clairvaux,  birth,  parentage  and  early  life,  71-73;  inherited 
traits  from  father  and  mother,  72;  attracted  to  a  martial  career,  73; 
dra\sTi  by  memory  of  his  mother  to  a  religious  life,  story  of  his  conversion, 
73;  what  was  meant  in  that  age  by  a  religious  life,  74;  turns  by  his  elo- 
quence his  brothers,  uncle  and  twenty  others  to  it,  74.  Their  choice  of 
Citeaux  rather  than  Clugni,  75;  their  accession  to  Citeaux  necessitates 
colonization,  76;  Bernard  and  twelve  others  establish  themselves  at 
Clairvaux,  76;  Bernard's  faith  and  inspiring  example,  77;  the  institution 
of  Monasticism,  78;  its  original  purpose  and  Scriptural  warrant,  79; 
the  cravings  it  satisfies,  80;  Cistercian  monks  like  those  of  Clairvaux, 
reformed  Benedictines,  81;  the  "Canonical  Hours,"  82;  comments  of 
Thomas  Fuller  upon  them,  83;  Dr.  Storr's  summary  of  the  life  at  Clair- 
vaux, 84 ;  statement  of  the  Catholic  Encyclopedia,  85 ;  incidental  benefits 
to  mankind  from  monastaries,  85;  many  superior  men  drawTi  to  them, 
86;  the  error  of  monasticism,  8;  effect  on  Bernard,  and  his  preservation 
from  its  dangers,  87;  his  labors  and  immense  influence,  87-88;  personal 
characteristics,  88-90;  opinions  of  Luther  and  Calvin  in  regard  to  him, 
91;  Dr.  Storrs  on  his  religious  belief,  91;  Neander  on  his  deep  religious 
experience,  91;  this  the  source  of  other  qualities?  92;  examples  of  his 
remarkable  eloquence,  93-97;  his  saintly  character,  97;  canonized 
twenty  years  after  death,  98;  a  gospel  preacher  of  doctrines  of  great  spirit- 
ual power,  98;  his  hymns,  99;  his  eloquence  a  divine  gift,  100;  his  life 
emphasizes  value  of  three  things,  100,  101 ;  Bernard's  faults  of  character 
and  conduct,  102;  Abelard,  his  enthusiasm  in  study  and  brilliancy  of 
mind,  102-103;  Dr.  Storrs'  statement  of  his  aim  as  a  theologian,  103; 

40S 


INDEX 

his  contempt  of  critics  and  opponents,  104;  the  father  of  modern  rational- 
ism, 104;  Bernard's  opinion  of  him,  104-105;  the  two  men  represented 
"colhding  tendencies,"  105;  they  join  issue  at  Coimcil  of  Sens,  105; 
Abelard's  conduct  there  inexplicable — a  puzzle  of  history,  107;  Bernard's 
insistence  that  the  Council  condemn  him  unjust,  707;  alleged  danger  of 
his  teaching  not  a  good  reason,  107;  Abelard  jBnds  a  refuge  at  Clugni, 
108;  character  of  Peter  the  Venerable,  its  abbot,  108;  Abelard's  "History 
of  Calamities,"  108;  his  reconciliation  with  Bernard  and  peaceful  end; 
his  life  not  a  failure,  109;  Dr.  Storrs'  summary,  110. 

Bible  biographies,  6,  7. 

Binney,  Dr.  Thomas,  310. 

Biographies,  Ministerial,  spuitually  beneficial,  6;  entertaining,  10; 
inspiring  to  the  discouraged,  12;  suggestive  of  good  method,  14;  give 
ideals,  25. 

Bossuet,  most  celebrated  preacher  in  reign  of  Louis  XIV,  165;  M. 
Gandar's  careful  study  of  Bossuet,  165;  dedicated  by  pious  parents  to  the 
Catholic  priesthood,  166;  educated  for  it  in  Dijon,  his  native  city,  and  at 
College  of  Navarre,  Paris,  166;  youthful  precocity  exhibited  in  Salon  of 
Marquise  de  Rambouillet,  167:  tribute  to  Nicolas  Cornet,  166;  unspoiled 
by  early  admiration,  167;  the  "fatal  gift"  of  fluency.  Lord  Russell  quoted, 
168;  from  things  required  of  a  good  preacher,  169;  Bossuet's  six  years  in 
Metz,  169;  incident  in  French  history  about  Cardinal  de  Bouillon,  170; 
the  things  emphasized  by  Bossuet  reveal  his  own  method,  170;  the  two 
most  essential  things,  170;  primary  purpose  of  study  of  the  Scriptures, 
171;  value  of  Church  Fathers;  much  accomplished  by  little  regular 
persevering  study,  171;  remark  of  Lamartine,  172;  accent  of  authority 
derived  from  Scripture,  172;  his  lighter  diet,  172;  a  grand  style  natural  to 
him;  things  learned  later,  173;  two  remarkable  powers,  173;  unfettered 
freedom,  173;  benefit  of  pre^^ous  writing,  174;  reputation  in  Metz,  174; 
Dr.  John  Brown  quoted,  174;  Mr.  Gandar;  Dr.  Horace  Bushnell  on  the 
"talent  of  growth,"  175;  two  means  of  self-improvement  used,  176; 
benefits  from  a  year  in  Paris,  177;  influence  of  Pascal,  178;  Dean  Church 
quoted,  179;  these  efforts  commendable,  179;  preaches  before  Anne  of 
Austria,  Queen  Mother,  180;  invited  to  preach  Lenten  Sermons  of  the 
Louvre,  180;  in  constant  request  from  1660  to  1670;  his  audiences,  180; 
funeral  orations,  181-182;  remark  of  Guisot,  182;  culmination  of  career, 
183;  always  a  learner,  183;  not  of  blameless  life  or  flawless  character, 
183;  approved  of  Revocation  of  Edict  of  Nantes,  183;  absurd  laudation 
of  Louis  XIV,  184;  Guizot's  opinion  of  Bossuet,  and  the  estimate  of  Mr. 
Gandar,  184:  "Golden  Age  of  the  French  Pulpit,"  fruitless,  184;  its  preach- 
ing compared  with  that  of  Baxter  and  the  Wesleys,  185;  reasons  for  its 
ineffectiveness. 

404 


INDEX 

Bos  well,  James,  biographer  of  Samuel  Johnson,  130. 

Boyd,  Rev.  Archibald,  245. 

Brainard,  David,  242. 

Brastow,  Prof.  L.  O.,  quoted,  255,  272,  278,  361,  377,  379.  380. 

Breda,  134 

Brooks,  Phillips,  his  parents  and  birthplace,  361-363;  education  at 
Latin  School  and  Harvard  College,  364,  365;  spiritual  and  religious  de- 
velopment, his  mother's  wisdom  in  it,  365-367;  Dr.  W.  N.  Clarke  quoted, 
365;  not  successful  as  a  teacher,  367;  theological  school  in  Alexandria, 
Va.,  368-371;  notebooks,  371-375;  first  attempts  at  preaching,  375-376; 
called  to  Church  of  the  Advent,  Philadelphia,  376;  ministry  in  Phila- 
delphia, 376-377;  personal  qualities,  377-385;  Dr.  Weir  Mitchell  quoted, 
385,  386,  391;  Commemoration  Day  at  Harvard,  385;  President  EUot's 
remark,  385-386;  Brooks'  eloquence,  386;  made  of  preparation  for  preach- 
ing, 386-388;  affluence  of  thought  and  feeling, — Professor  A.  B.  Bruce 
quoted,  389;  influence  of  the  outbreak  of  the  Civil  War,  389-390;  Eulogy 
of  Lincoln,  390;  his  friends,  390-391;  ministry  in  Boston,  392;  pubUshed 
sermons,  392-393:  preaches  in  W^estminster  Abbey  and  before  the  Queen, 
393;  preaching  in  Huntington  Hall,  testimony  of  Principal  TuUoch,  394; 
"Lectures  on  Preaching,"  394;  ministry  to  students  of  Harvard  College, 
395-396;  his  death,  body  borne  to  and  from  Trinity  Church  by  students, 
396;  his  last  sermon  on  the  main  theme  of  his  ministry,  397;  his  statue 
by  St.  Gaudens,  397;  the  Phillip's  Brooks  House  at  Harvard,  397;  the 
Inscription  in  Central  Hall,  397;  his  aspiration  fulfilled,  398. 

Brooks,  William  Gray,  father  of  Phillips,  361-363. 

Brown,  Dr.  John,  quoted,  174,  212,  213,  224,  227,  296,  299,  300. 

Bruce,  Prof.  A.  B.  Bruce,  389. 

Bunny's  Resolution,  113. 

Bunyan,  John,  Dr.  Thomas  Arnold's  estimate  of  him,  191;  birth  and 
parentage,  191,193,  a  great  genius  trained  in  the  school  of  Providence, 
192;  Epictetus  and  Marcus  Aurelius,  192;  "Grace  Abounding,"  192; 
liA-ing  in  the  Age  of  Cromwell  and  the  Civil  War  he  scarcely  refers  to  its 
events,  193;  account  of  himself  as  boy  and  young  man,  194,  195;  opinions 
of  Macaulay  and  Froude,  195;  a  soldier,  195;  his  marriage,  wife's  dowry 
and  good  influence,  196;  three  providential  agencies  that  shaped  him, 
197;  the  poor  Bedford  women,  198;  Mr.  Gifford  their  pastor,  200,  206; 
began  to  read  the  Bible  as  never  before,  201,  215;  examples  of  enlighten- 
ment from  the  Bible,  202-203;  the  harm  from  introspection,  204;  tempta- 
tions of  Satan,  204,  205;  preserved  from  madness  by  soothing  influence 
of  the  Bible,  205;  his  dialogues  with  Satan  Uke  Luther's,  206;  Bunyan's 
beUefs  and  doctrine  those  of  the  Reformer,  206;  relief  given  by  Luther's 
Commentary  on  Galatians,  206;  Bunyan's  use  of  Scriptures,  207;  the 

405 


INDEX 

"law  work"  upon  Bunyan's  soul,  207;  benefit  resulting  from  it,  208; 
ordained  for  the  ministry  at  twenty  seven,  208;  Froude's  estimate  of  him 
as  a  preacher,  208;  his  fame  reached  to  London,  209;  Dr.  John  Owen's 
remark  to  the  king  about  his  preaching,  209;  qualities  that  distinguished 
him  as  a  preacher,  210;  his  remarkable  style,  211,  223;  on  "Christ  as 
our  Advocate,"  212;  Dr.  John  BroviTi  quoted,  212,  213,  224;  examples  of 
use  of  his  imagination,  213;  productiveness  of  his  mind  in  religious  sub- 
jects, 214;  the  value  of  the  Bible  as  a  fertiUzer  of  the  mind,  215;  his  ser- 
mons as  examples  of  homiletic  skill,  216;  use  of  the  dialogue,  217;  the  use 
of  it  by  Prof.  E.  A.  Park,  217;  imprisonment  for  preaching,  217-218; 
the  two  jails  of  Bedford,  218;  John  Howard's  name  and  work  associated 
with  them,  218;  imprisonment  of  Bunyan  and  Quakers  cost  of  liberty, 
219;  P'roude's  lame  defense  of  the  government,  220;  Bunyan's  wife  to 
the  judges,  220;  his  employment  in  prison,  220;  his  treatises,  "Grace 
Abounding,"  "Christian  Behavior,"  "The  Holy  City"  and  "Pilgrim's 
Progress"  composed  m  prison,  218,  221,  222;  his  style,  223;  Dean  Stanley 
upon  the  "Pilgrim's  Progress,"  225-226;  his  last  words  from  the  pulpit, 
and  death  in  London,  228;  "Bunhill  Fields"  his  burial  place,  228:  his 
Memorial  Window  in  Westminster  Abbey,  229. 

Burke,  Edmund,  5. 

Burnet,  Bishop  Gilbert,  134,  142. 

Bushnell,  Dr.  Horace,  175. 

Butler,  Rev.  Daniel,  12. 

Calvin,  John,  the  Reformer,  91 

Charleton,  Margaret,  wife  of  Richard  Baxter,  145, 

Chapman,  Dr.  J.  W.  9. 

Chrysostom,  John  of  Antioch, — Dr.  R.  S.  Storrs'  estimate  of  him  as  a 
preacher,  21,  58;  birth,  parents,  31;  Antioch  in  the  Fourth  Century, 
A.D.,  32;  twofold  environment,  local  and  imperial,  32-35;  "Ben  Hur" 
story  of  Lew  Wallace,  32-33;  the  decaying  Roman  empire,  34;  the  peril 
attending  Imperial  dignity,  35;  instability  of  the  government.  35;  general 
apprehension  of  ruin,  35;  the  remarkable  men  and  women  of  this  time, 
36;  precocity  of  Chrysostom,  his  teacher  Libanius,  36;  enters  on  the  prac- 
tice of  law, — but  soon  abandons  it  to  study  for  the  ministry,  37;  his 
friendship  for  Basil,  37-38;  influence  of  Meletius,  bishop  of  Antioch,  38; 
of  Diodorus,  the  teacher  of  Bible,  39;  the  two  friends  shun  episcopal  dig- 
nity, 39;  the  broken  promise,  39;  Chrysostom's  justification  of  himself, 
40;  his  mother's  death  permits  the  longed  for  retirement  to  monastery 
and  hermit's  cell,  40;  ordained  deacon  by  Meletius,  and  served  under 
Flavian,  40;  duties  of  this  office,  40-41;  Chrysostom's  personal  qualities, 
41;  Cardinal  Newman's  estimate,  41-42;  ordained  presbyter  by  Flavian 
in  his  fortieth  year,  42;  his  preparatory  training  of  fifteen  years  needed 

406 


INDEX 

for  his  work,  42;  at  once  rose  to  the  zenith  of  fame  as  preacher  in  Antioch; 
his  eloquence,  personal  appearance,  and  oratorical  ability,  42-46;  has  a 
rational  theology,  46-49;  "Riot  of  the  Statues,"  49-50;  Treasonable  Acts 
of  the  Mob — revulsion  of  terror,  50;  the  Emperor's  vengeance  feared, 
51;  advantage  taken  of  the  situation  by  Chrysostom,  and  calming  effect 
of  his  preaching,  51;  Bishop  Flavian's  winter  journey  to  Constantinople, 
51;  wonders  -^Tought  by  Chrysostom  in  his  absence,  52;  extracts  from  his 
reported  sermons,  52-58;  their  enduring  vitality  and  interest,  59;  elo- 
quence of  Chrysostom  attracts  the  notice  of  Eutropius,  who  desires  to 
make  him  Archbishop  of  Constantinople,  an  honor  which  he  shuns, 
59-60;  strategem  used  to  kidnap  him  and  carry  him  off,  60;  the  dignity 
not  a  bed  of  roses,  60;  differing  ideas  of  Eutropius  and  Chrysostom  in 
regard  to  its  obligations,  60;  at  first  everything  seemed  fair  through 
popularity  of  Chrysostum's  preaching,  61;  torch-light  pilgrimage  to 
martyr's  shrine,  and  natural  admiration  of  preacher  and  empress,  61-62; 
a  change  to  hostility,  62;  rebuke  of  the  sins  of  the  great,  62-63;  his  aus- 
terity distasteful  to  the  great,  63;  downfall  of  Eutropius,  64;  asylum  of 
St.  Sophia  given  him;  Empress  Eudoxia  offended  and  furious,  65;  plots 
for  Chrysostum's  destruction,  65;  condemned  and  deposed  by  the 
"S>Tiod  of  the  Oak,"  66;  exiled  and  recalled,  66;  exiled  a  second  time,  66; 
his  death  and  last  words,  67;  his  relics  brought  back  to  Constantinople 
by  Eudoxia's  son,  who  kneeling  above  them  implored  forgiveness  for 
the  sins  of  his  parents,  68;  but  few  in  the  history  of  the  world  more 
deserving  of  honor,  68. 

Church,  Dean  R.  W.  173,  179. 

Clarke,  Dr.  W.  N.  quoted,  365,  371,  380-382. 

Coan,  Rev.  Titus,  Missionary,  9. 

Coleridge,  Samuel  Taylor,  187;  verse  quoted,  148. 

Conde,  Louis,  the  "Great  Conde,"  181. 

.Comet,  Nicolas,  teacher  of  Bossuet,  166. 

Cuyler,  Dr.  Theodore  L.,  342. 

Cyprian,  Church  Father,  171. 

Dante,  25,  251. 

Daphne,  Grove  of,  in  Antioch,  33. 

Davis,  Rev.  Benjamin,  285. 

Denys,  Helen,  245. 

Diodorus,  teacher  of  Chrysostom,  38. 

Doddridge,  Dr.  Philip,  129. 

Doyden,  John,  poet  and  prose  writer,  5. 

Eliot,  Dr.  C.  W.,  former  President  of  Harvard  College,  385. 

Epictetus,  192. 

Eudoxia,  Empress,  62,  65-66. 

407 


INDEX 

Eutropius,  59-60,  64-65. 

Finney,  Rev.  Charles,  G.,  9. 

Flavian,  40,  42,  51. 

Fox,  Charles  J.,  distinguished  British  Orator,  20. 

Fox's  "Book  of  Martyrs,"  139. 

Gandar,  M.  Eug.,  165,  175,  177,  184. 

Gibbon,  Edward,  historian,  41. 

Goodell,  Dr.  C.  L.,  23,  24. 

Guisot,  French  historian,  182,  18*. 

Guthrie,  Dr.  Thomas,  Scotch  preacher,  16-18. 

Hadley,  S.  H.,  9. 

Hale,  Dr.  Edward  Everett,  10. 

Hale,  Sir  Matthew,  English  Judge,  145. 

Hall,  Dr.  Newman,  21. 

Hall,  Robert,  59. 

Hamilton,  Alexander,  174. 

Henrietta,  duchess  of  Orleans,  181. 

Hodge,  Dr.  Charles,  37. 

Hooker,  Richard,  115. 

Hyde,  Chancellor,  Earl  of  Clarendon,  134,  136,  138. 

Jeffries,  the  infamous  English  Judge,  159. 

Johnson,  Dr.  Samuel,  130. 

Jowett,  Professor  Benjamin,  Oxford  University,  VII,  143. 

Jowett,  Dr.  J.  H.,  Clergyman,  quoted  261,  262. 

Judson,  Dr.  Adoniram,  Missionary,  9. 

Keble,  John,  author  of  the  "Christian  Year,"  239. 

Knox,  Alexander,  295, 

Knox,  John,  Scottish  Reformer,  13,  139. 

Lamartine,  172. 

Lenten  Sermons  of  Bossuet,  in  1662,  181. 

Libanius,  teacher  of  Chrysostom,  36-37,  Liddon,  59. 

Louis  XIV,  King  of  France,  181,  186-187. 

Lowell,  James  Russell,  28. 

Luther,  the  Reformer,  13,  277. 

Mather,  Cotton,  161. 

McChene,  24. 

McLaren,  Alexander:  his  name  283;  birthplace  and  parents,  283-284; 
a  scholar  in  Glasgow  High  School  and  University,  284;  enters  Baptist 
College  at  Stepney,  Rev.  Benjamin  Davis,  Principal,  285;  religious  de- 
velopment, influence  of  Rev.  David  Ruseli,  285;  "had  to  be"  a  minister, 
286;  called  to  preach  at  Portland  Chapel,  Southampton,  at  age  of  twenty, 
286;  benefits  of  his  early  ministry  there  of  twelve  years,  286;  conception 

408 


INDEX 

of  the  Christian  ministry,  287;  study  of  the  Scriptures  evident  from  man- 
ner of  reading  them  in  public;  a  careful  exigete  of  the  Bible;  Dr.  C.  H. 
Parkhurst's  tribute  to  hi&  example,  287;  the  formative  years — the  first 
years,  287;  always  endeavors  to  do  his  best,  rapid  progress  in  preaching 
power,  appreciation  of  his  work  by  Southampton  people,  magnified 
preacher's  oflSce  above  pastoral,  288;  his  method  and  principles  of  work: 
resolves  not  to  write  his  sermons,  but  to  think  and  feel  them;  so  saturating 
his  mind  with  his  subject  that  facing  his  congregation — looking  into 
their  eyes — his  thoughts  clothed  themselves  in  suitable  words,  289;  did 
not  entirely  discard  his  pen, — wrote  two  or  three  introductory  sentences — 
heads  of  divisions — jottings  and  closing  sentences,  289;  not  a  careless 
workman,  290;  studies  gave  him  an  opulent  mind,  291;  address  to  min- 
isters at  City  Temple,  London,  291,  319;  principles  that  shaped  his  min- 
istry, 291-297;  test  of  personal  experience,  292,  291;  a  sermon  "a  cordial 
communication  of  \'italized  truth,"  295;  the  preacher  "a  herald  of  God," 
295;  just  to  the  sense  of  his  text,  296;  labors  upon  his  sermon  plans,  296; 
McLaren's  call  to  Union  Chapel,  Manchester,  297;  his  ministry  of  45 
years  there — a  successful  ministry  from  first  to  last.  Sir  Wm.  R.  Michol's 
testimony,  297;  "Sermons  preached  in  Manchester,"  298,  300;  302,  303; 
his  local  influence  and  reputation  in  Manchester,  308-309;  world-wide 
influence  upon  the  ministry  of  his  time,  319;  impression  of  his  sermon  and 
preaching  upon  Dr.  Parkhurst,  298;  ministerial  Jubliee,  291;  power  of 
productive  thinking,  293;  "Word  of  Counsel"  to  Theological  Students, 
293;  his  marriage,  tribute  to  his  wife,  306-307;  chosen  President  of  Bap- 
tist Union  in  1875,  307;  demands  of  special  occasions,  309;  at  Free  Trade 
Hall,  Manchester,  in  London,  "Secret  of  Power,"  Dr.  Thomas  Binney, 
310;  his  pulpit  prayers,  311-312;  maimer  of  preaching,  311-312;  each 
Sunday  service  "a  woe,"  313;  old  sermons,  if  used,  must  be  revivified, 
313;  dependence  on  sleep  to  recuperate  nerve  power,  and  his  ability  to 
command  it,  314;  a  modest,  approachable  man,  story  of  his  photograph, 
315;  receives  from  Edinburgh  University  degree  of  D.D.,  315;  impaired 
health,  a  year's  vacation,  given  an  assistant,  J.  G.  Raws,  316;  from  1881 
to  close  of  minority,  one  sermon  a  Sunday,  316;  visits  Australia  and  New 
Zealand;  interest  produced  by  his  preaching  in  antipodes,  317;  Rev.  J. 
Edward  Roberts  made  his  assistant  and  colleague,  317;  meeting  of  the 
Baptist  Union  in  Edinburgh  in  1901,  319;  address  on  "Evangelical 
Mysticism,"  320;  resigns  his  pastorate,  320;  but  not  to  be  idle,  321;  his 
last  years,  years  of  increasing  holiness,  321;  the  direction  of  his  thoughts 
when  free,  321;  testimony  of  his  physician,  322;  death,  words  carved  on 
his  tombstone,  322. 

McLaren,  David,  father  of  Alexander,  283-284. 

McLarin,  Marian,  wife  of  Alexander,  306-307;  her  death,  316. 

409 


INDEX 

McLaren,  Mary  Wingate,  mother  of  Alexander,  284. 

Meletius,  bishop  of  Antioch,  38. 

Meldenius,  Rupertus,  author  of  Baxter's  rule  of  toleration,  149. 

Merriam,  Rev.  George,  10,  11. 

Milton,  John,  English  author,  5,  25,  132. 

Miltiades,  13. 

Mitchell,  Miss  EUsabeth,  391. 

Mitchell,  Dr.  Weir,  391. 

Moody,  D.  L.,  9,  21. 

Narrative  of  his  own  Life  (Reliquae  Baxterianae),  149. 

Nectarius,  59,  63. 

"New  Acts,"  9. 

Newton,  Rev.  W.  W.,  390. 

Newman,  J.  H.  Cardinal,  41,  238. 

Nott,  Dr.  Eliphalet,  16. 

Orme,  William,  author  of  Life  of  Richard  Baxter,  146,  148. 

Owen,  Dr.  John,  146. 

Park,  Dr.  Edwards  A.,  217. 

Parker,  Dr.  Joseph,  304,  310,  344. 

Parkhurst,  Dr.  Charles  H.,  287,  298-299. 

Pascal,  178. 

Paton,  Rev.  John  G.,  Missionary,  9. 

Pattison,  Prof.  T.  H.,  293. 

Payson,  Dr.  Edward,  23,  24. 

Petrarch,  25. 

Pierson,  Rev.  A.  T.,  9. 

Pitt,  William,  20. 

Phillips,  Mary  Ann,  mother  of  Phillips  Brooks,  361-363,  365. 

Plato,  25. 

Pusey,  Dr.  E.  B.,  238. 

Raws,  Rev.  J.  G.,  316. 

Roberts,  Rev.  J.  Edwards,  317. 

Robertson,  Frederick  W.  Most  remarkable  English  preacher  of  his 
century;  reputation  and  influence  posthumous;  "Life  and  Letters"  by 
Rev.  Stopford  Brooke,  233;  his  remarkable  sermons,  234;  family  and  early 
environment,  234;  education  and  mental  development,  a  student  in 
New  Academy,  Edinburgh,  235;  wish  to  enter  the  army,  236;  aversion  to 
the  ministry;  the  mysterious  ruling  of  providence,  236-237;  disappoint- 
ment; remains  ever  a  soldier  at  heart,  237;  student  life  at  Oxford,  237; 
contemporaries  and  teachers,  237;  the  "Tractarian  Movement"  and 
Newman's  Sermons,  238;  appreciation  of  Keble's  "Christian  Year," 
239;  dissent  from  Tractarian  doctrine,  239;  his  study  of  the  Bible,  239; 

410 


INDEX 

harm  of  desultory  reading;  the  mischief  of  "careless  multifarious" 
reading,  240; — his  reading  of  Classic  and  standard  English  writers,  241; 
his  ministry  in  four  places,  241;  in  Winchester,  as  curate — his  rector, 
Mr.  Nicholson,  241;  life  and  work  at  Winchester,  Brainard's  Life;  his 
sermons,  243;  ordered  to  Switzerland  for  his  health;  health  improved  by 
change;  valuable  acquaintances  in  Geneva;  Cesar  Malan  and  Helen 
Denys,  whom  he  marries,  245;  given  a  curacy  in  Cheltenham;  happy  in  his 
rector,  Rev.  Archibald  Boyd,  245;  his  inspiring  preaching  in  Cheltenham, 
brilliancy  as  a  talker,  245-246;  three  things  greatly  affected  him  there: 
friends,  the  social  atmosphere,  and  books,  247;  influence  of  the  social 
atmosphere  baneful,  other  two  good;  Cheltenham,  a  fashionable  watering 
place,  frequented  by  intolerant  religious  people,  248;  Robertson  estranged 
from  the  Evangelical  School  by  the  harsh,  untruthful  utterances  of  the 
Record  and  Guardian;  hasty  and  unjust  in  his  judgment  of  this  School, 
249;  The  break  with  them  gradual,  250;  his  reading  of  Tennyson's 
"In  Memoriam,"  Carlyle,  Guizot,  Nicbuhr,  Dante  expanded  and  enriched 
his  mind,  251;  other  pi ofi table  reading;  neglect  of  exercise,252;  Words- 
worth quoted,  253;  dettirmines  to  sever  connection  with  Evangelical 
School,  253;  goes  to  Tyrol  and  Innsbruck,  254;  Spiritual  Crisis,  254; 
Professor  Brastow  quoted,  255;  given  charge  of  St.  Ebbe's  Oxford,  by 
Bishop  Wilberforce,  256;  the  attraction  of  his  preaching  because  of  new 
light  received,  256;  the  principles  of  his  teaching  henceforth,  257;  Trinity 
Chapel,  Brighton,  offered  him;  enters  upon  his  labors  there  in  his  32nd 
year,  257;  Brighton  as  a  fashionable  watering-place,  257-258;  expository 
lectures  on  1st  Samuel,  258;  accused  of  political  preaching,  259;  charged 
with  Socialism,  260;  the  Record  attacks  him,  260;  his  reply,  261;  Dr.  J.  H. 
Jewett  quoted,  261,  262;  Robertson's  intense  sensitiveness;  his  preaching 
in  Trinity  Chapel,  263-267;  mode  of  preparing  sermons,  264;  their  en- 
during interest,  265;  contemporary  conditions:  a  time  of  transition  in 
theolog>%  268;  of  transition  in  politics,  269;  of  transition  in  style  of 
preaching,  271;  shattered  health,  272-273;  chronic  morbidness  of  mind, 
273-274 ;  laid  upon  himself  unnecessary  crushing  burdens,  ex :  writing  out 
his  sermons  after  delivery,  275;  the  world's  profit  from  this  sacrifice  of 
friendship  and  the  fame  thus  won  scarcely  a  compensation  for  the  misery 
it  cost  him,  275;  symptoms  of  distress  and  breakdown,  276;  premature 
death  in  middle  of  38th  year,  276;  Luther's  remark,  277;  Robertson's 
repugnance  to  hearing  commendation  of  his  sermons,  277;  a  seer  as  well 
as  an  eloquent  preacher,  278;  his  wholesome  modernism,  278;  the  shifting 
of  emphasis  from  theological  dogmas  to  ethical  precepts  of  the  New 
Testament  and  the  example  and  spirit  of  Christ  largely  due  to  him,  279. 

Richards,  Rev.  C.  A.,  390. 

Russell,  R«v.  David,  285. 

411 


INDEX 

Russell  alliam,  146. 

Sevagn.      l-       21  de,  178, 

South,    '       .    )ert,  59. 

Sozorr        '  , 

Stank  A.  P.,  148,  158,  226,  393. 

Steve        -      '  imes,  150. 

Storrs,  x^. .  ;..  S.,  quoted,  31,  58,  59,  78,  84,  91,  103,  110,  349. 

Synod  of  the  Oak,  66. 

Taylor,  Jeremy,  59. 

Taylor,  Dr.  Wm.  M.,  19. 

Tennyson,  Alfred,  251. 

TertuUian,  171. 

Theodosius,  the  Great,  36,  49-50. 

Theophilus,  Archbishop  of  Alexandria,  o5. 

Themistocles,  13. 

Thoburn,  Bishop,  J.  M.,  9. 

Tillotson,  5. 

Tractarian  Movement,  238-239. 

Trumbull,  Rev.  H.  C,  24. 

Turenne,  Marshal,  170. 

Tyrol,  254. 

Venus  de  Milo,  4. 

Vincent,  Dr.  J.  H.  (bishop  of  M.  E.  Church),  22. 

Vinton,  Dr.  A.  H.,  367,  369. 

Wayland,  Dr.  Francis,  16. 

Webster,  Daniel,  21,  174. 

VyTiite,  Andrew,  D.,  343. 

Whitefield,  Rev.  George,  17. 

WTiittier,  J.  G.,  26. 

Williams,  John,  Missionary,  9. 

Wordsworth,  quoted,  253. y-' 


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